


Error and Trial

by sian1359



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-11
Updated: 2009-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-04 08:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian1359/pseuds/sian1359
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it was pretty damn obvious where the Asurans and the Wraith learned their thing or two about torture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Error and Trial

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2008 Sheppard H/C Secret Santa Fic Exchange; recipient -- bakarini. Beta'ed by Mrs. Hamill. Takes place in Season Five, between episodes _Ghost in the Machine_ and _The Shrine_. Word Count ~43,000

**Prologue:**

Afterward, they decided the equipment had been restored by the crew of the _Tria_.  That like the ascension machine that had come so close to killing Rodney, this was another piece of technology the recovered Ancestors couldn't live in Atlantis without.  Especially after learning their through Subspace had actually been _ten thousand_ years long and that everyone and everything they knew were not only dead and buried but now merely myth or fable.  Maybe after all of that, the tech _was_ necessary for the survivors.  Understandably, Helia, would have enabled _any_ technology to help her people cope with such a surprise, including a machine that could help her people escape their tragic fate and rejoin their long-lost brethren through ascension.  And one that could check the weaknesses (sanity) of her people after they'd learned of this new galaxy they'd been reborn into. 

What still wasn't clear was why those machines performed so badly.  In the aftermath it was easier to say that it was because the 'new' Lanteans weren't actually full Ancestors, so neither machine had worked quite to specification.  And that their usage must have been commonplace once upon a time.  So common that even the Ancestor’s _children_ knew what the machines were and how to use them.  That everyone knew how their use would affect someone -- and what the consequences were in stopping the ‘treatment’ before completion. 

So commonplace and practical that they would never be left on in run mode, to be accidentally set off by casual contact and used without the recipient being able to consent. 

Because, otherwise, it was pretty damn obvious where the Asurans and the Wraith learned their thing or two about torture.

**1.**

"McKay!"

"Don't even start, Colonel.  This is not my fault.  If there is anyone who’s done something to activate things…”

Ronon watched McKay paused and shoot a pointed look John’s way, though only for a moment before their scientist returned his attention to the piece of tech in his hands.

"Just think off, do your thing with your gun and your glower when it doesn’t work, and shut up and let me figure out what's going on.”

“I do not glower.  And doors opening aren’t subject to commands of on and off, which I wasn’t thinking in the first place," John shot back, undaunted by McKay's own glower.  "_You_ were the one complaining about missing lunch.  Maybe it’s a short cut back to the commissary …“

Ronon tuned out their arguing.  It wasn't uncommon between them, it wasn't serious, and somebody needed to maintain a ready alert to their forward position as Teyla was covering their backtrail.  Not that Ronon doubted that just because John and McKay were accusing and scolding one another, that John wasn't also still attentive to their surroundings – that he wasn’t ‘doing his thing with his gun and his glower’ even if that really was more Ronon’s job with in the team.  He also knew that McKay had his mind and tech trained on the new entrance and really was involved with his readings despite the evidence to the contrary. 

Such sniping, even the good-natured kind, would never have been allowed under Kell’s command.  Still, Ronon had come to realize that talking through everything was McKay's way of making sure people understood him even if the subject matter wasn’t something complicated (and that no one blamed him for their misunderstandings, especially when it was).  It had been harder to accept that John actually encouraged the distraction, at least during those missions when nothing was really happening.  John had finally explained it as his way of insuring that McKay was at least semi-focused on the mission instead of on the twenty other things the scientist was always thinking about at any one time.  Now, wile even after a few years Ronon could admit he still wasn’t exactly used to the sheer noise being produced, he'd realized his real trouble was only that it was just so damn foreign to his training and understanding of mission security protocols.  And that he'd feel something was off if it was missing.

He also found it interesting that because John and McKay's interactions were so often arguments and bickering, the others here in Atlantis accused them of being old married couple even though such an accusation – such an _insinuation_ about any two men Ronon had learned quite early after his arrival here – was taboo to many of the soldiers from Earth.  Of course,  in Ronon's experience the two acted more like brothers than a bonded couple.  And he'd never been so glad to find out that his observation was the right one in this. 

Just as he’d been even more pleased to discover John didn’t subscribe to the same feelings of taboo. 

"I see you are directionally challenged here in Atlantis too,” McKay was now admonishing John when Ronon tuned back in to their exchange.  “The cafeteria is back that way,” Rodney gestured widely.

Ronon shifted away from the flailing hand in his face and rolled his eyes as the bickering shifted into one of their regular arguments.  "Actually, it's back that way," Ronon corrected the scientist with a smug grin he'd learned from McKay. 

Realistically John wasn’t as bad with directions as McKay always made out, but he definitely wasn’t as good on the ground as when he was in the cockpit of a puddlejumper.  Course, John also had Ronon – and Teyla – to keep him and McKay on the right track -- like now -- and Ronon figured John’s reliance on their skills was really more of an expression of trust than a failing on John’s part.  In the matters of keeping his team alive, John did whatever he had too, including always maintaining an awareness of where a planet’s Ring of the Ancestors was located relative to their current position.

Teyla gave a small cough from her position down the corridor, more a clearing of her throat or hiding a laugh than from some ailment, Ronon figured, since it was followed by an expression of fond indulgence and a shake of her head at the three of them.  Ronon wasn’t the only one to turn to check, though, or to have an expression of relief on his own face when they were each offered a gentle smile in return for their concern.

Other than Teyla successfully giving birth to Torren and finding of a few of her fellow Athosians left alive and unharmed, there hadn’t been much for her -- for any of them -- to smile about lately.  One crisis after another had been ongoing for months, including far too many that had resulted in injury to each of them.  This mission to check a part of the city for changes or damage that might have occurred in one of those crises was a soft one; was created to give them a chance to ease back into their regular roles as a reconnaissance and first contact team instead of the constant emergency response roles they’d been too often called upon to undertake. 

The shame of it was that Ronon needed the cosseting as much as the other three.  He'd recovered okay from getting addicted to the Wraith enzyme again and was getting beyond Tyre's second betrayal/redemption/death.  Knowing he'd become a puppet of the Wraith, however, that he had so nearly betrayed Atlantis _and_ had been willing to kill John was still giving him nightmares, as was the memory of Teyla being in the hands of Michael, John being lost in time and the number of times John had ended up in Keller’s care once he'd been found again.  If this kind of shit kept happening one of his team was going to end up like Weir or Carson, and Ronon wasn’t sure he could take a loss like that again.  At least not just without deciding to take on a hive ship on his own and earn the inevitable conclusion.

“Well, obviously your grunts have once more proved the adage that they couldn’t see their way out of a paper bag,” McKay answered something Ronon hadn’t heard John say while he’d been lost in his own thoughts again.

 “It’s 'fight' their way out of, not 'see',” it was John's turn to correct as he took up a position next to Ronon while they waited for McKay to finish his scans. 

The image their words provoked didn’t mean much to Ronon either way; Sateda had used hides for writing messages on or for carrying supplies, nor had he seen the practicality of using a product with the intent of being thrown away after a single use.  Few of their Earth sayings made sense to Ronon anyway, just as many of their habits and expectations ran contrary to his own despite their civilizations being closer to one another in technological advances than many of the other Pegasus Galaxy inhabitants.  He’d finally stopped expecting those from Earth to ever just speak plainly, had for the most part even stopped resenting them for always speaking about things he and Teyla had no background with.

The recent and final betrayal by Tyre was definitely the last nail in the coffin – one good Earth saying – to his wishes to still find and return to the surviving people who understood his own cultural references. That, and his acceptance that he'd found people who'd become closer to him than his old squad mates had been, as impossible as that sounded even to his own mind.  And because he’d found a lover to care about as much as he ever had Melena.

“And sorry, Rodney, but it was Stack’s team who signed off on the last survey down in this quadrant,” that lover continued to bait McKay.  “Sure, if Radek or Simpson had been playing his technical advisor, I’d just say they had just kept the discovery of this door for themselves.  But you're not really accusing Miko of that?” John grinned.  “Or has she finally wised up and is no longer crushing on you?  I mean, presenting you with a room that was still secret after four years of exploration would practically be a wedding proposal –“

"Is that not what _you_ are doing, John?  Presenting Rodney with a secret room to explore? Are you proposing?" Teyla interrupted with a soft laugh and then sent a teasing glance Ronon's way.

He'd never bristled at her sly digs and subtle humor; a warrior should use all weapons at her disposal whether she was fighting or teaching, and Teyla was one of the best Ronon had ever met – at both.  He also understood hers better than the rest of the humor now surrounding him, not so much because of their shared cultural references but because hers was as quiet and subtle as she herself was… as Ronon liked to think he was too.

The first time she’d teased him after he’d bedded John, however, he'd been concerned with how John would react since they were violating such a big taboo.  He had also worried about whether he’d been the one to fail in keeping their changed relationship a secret.  But not only was Teyla always more aware of her environment than anyone Ronon had ever known -- including himself -- she could also read people uncannily well.  And so she was always quite careful about when she offered such teasing. 

Surprisingly, it had been McKay who’d proven more reassuring – and proven he wasn’t as unaware of people and nuance as he was accused of – with his explanation that John had been teased about such things for most of his life because of his looks.  As long as people made such comments about John and McKay when everyone _knew_ they were a joke, McKay had assured him, no one was going to believe there was something going on between John and a different guy.

“More like leading me into a trap,” McKay muttered in response to Teyla's teasing.  “Since we _have_ had people down here plenty of times before, for it to just appear now means….”

"Means what?" John asked a little more seriously when McKay gave an obvious pause instead of just trailing off as he normally did when he’d become too involved in his readouts to finish his words out loud.

"I don't know," Rodney responded in kind.  "And that's kinda freaking me out."

"Perhaps it is not so much a secret door as a hidden one?" Teyla offered.

"Oh, yes and, pray tell, what is the difference between a hidden door and a secret one?" McKay started to sneer, but then flushed and ducked his head when he realized he’d begun yelling at Teyla.

As a rule, _no_ one yelled or ridiculed Teyla, not Woolsey and not even Doctor Rodney McKay, the self-scribed smartest man in two galaxies.

"Secret means someone didn't want it found, while hidden just means it's hard to find," Ronon shrugged.  He got a look of surprise back from McKay, not the frequent one that meant that McKay had forgotten Ronon was near, but the one where the scientist was really admitting that he was acknowledging that Sateda had been a place of learning and culture instead of being home to just another low tech society like so many other worlds here in Pegasus were.  The look where he remembered that Ronon wasn't an unschooled barbarian despite that being one of McKay's favorite names for him.

That look didn't stop Ronon from growling and baring his teeth at McKay in return, however.

John and Teyla simply laughed at them both

“So are we going to check it out?” Ronon had never tolerated just standing around watching other people do things -- or _not_ do them.  He had no problem playing soldier or sentry, he could even see the trust John had given him from nearly their first meeting whenever he was stuck 'babysitting' McKay.  But in his experience, you could only gain so much intel from studying books or equipment and, in the end, it still all came down to needing to take that step into the unknown.

“Perhaps this room is something that only became necessary to our operations now that we have relocated to a new planet,” Teyla played her part as diplomat and voice of wisdom.  “Surely such a drastic change in our circumstances has wrought a variety of alterations to in Atlantis’ operations?  This could have been a monitoring station for the star drive procedure that we simply did not have knowledge of previous to our need, and one that no one observed or noted appearing during the flight.”

If John and Rodney were squabbling brothers, Teyla was mother and little sister both, keeping tempers and focus aligned, but also ready and willing to kick any of their asses when necessary despite her standard placid temperament.  Of course, now that she was a real mother, _that_ side of her was being exhibited more often, as was her skill in producing feelings of guilt in others.  Somehow, Ronon had thought he'd resent her for the excessive mothering; even as a child he'd been pretty independent and hadn't ever taken to being disciplined or shamed very well. But there was something about Teyla as both a mother and a woman that soothed and centered him in ways he hadn't ever before experienced -- at least not for long enough to recognize or understand them.

He’d always held a certain reverence for Teyla, one completely different from the loyalty and respect John had earned from him, and different from the awe and tolerant affection he felt for McKay.  It wasn't just because Teyla was a fellow native of the Pegasus Galaxy, a fellow warrior, or that she could kick _his_ ass too.  And as for being the leader of her people … Ronon liked the Athosians well enough, but they were simple in their lifestyle and philosophies, like most of the other inhabitants here kept meek and complacent under the threats of Wraith cullings.  He had grown up in a society that had railed and challenged that type of complacency -- even if they'd been destroyed for those beliefs.  

Not that Teyla was meek, and she certainly wasn't simple.  She was his equal or his better in skill and in intelligence, was _fiercer_ yet still so utterly a woman that he could weep from it.  Melena had been more traditional as both a woman and a care-taker, although he suspected now that she would have grown into a certain fierceness of spirit had she been given the chance -- she'd certainly been stubborn enough not to always acquiesce to his demands. 

Ronon had also never recognized that core of steel and resilience in his own mother, though that might have been due to his limitations of understanding because of his age while she'd still been alive.  He had seen it sometimes in Elizabeth Weir, who had reminded him of his mother from the first moment he’d been introduced, and once or twice in Jennifer Kellar, although he recognized now that his attraction to her had been because she simply reminded him of Melena due to both her personality and her life's calling.

_Whatever_ Teyla had been to him before she'd given birth to Torren, however, she was all that and so much more now.  And he wasn't the only one who felt it.

Ronon could see on McKay’s face that he wanted to mock Teyla’s speculation even if he wasn't going to yell.  Only Teyla had proven herself surprisingly adept with Ancestral and with McKay's own technology while they’d been on the alternate _Daedelus,_ certainly much more than McKay had ever suspected.  Ronon also new for a fact that McKay was just as ensorcelled by her motherhood as was Ronon and the rest of the expedition, Woolsey included.  Really, only John was treating Teyla the same as he had before she’d gotten pregnant.  But considering how poorly John had handled her _being_ pregnant –

'Course John was going out of his way to treat everything and everybody as before … Before Carson and Elizabeth had died, before Carter had come and gone, before Teyla had been taken by Michael and John had become trapped in a future some forty-eight thousand years from now to learn that everything had gone to hell within a couple years of his absence. 

As he had been after his father's death, John was _desperate_ for normal. And while Ronon ached for him, there was little he felt he could do or offer this time since he was just as desperate for normal himself.

Life had been a damn sight easier when all he worried about was finding food and a safe place to rest in between killing the Wraith that had hunted him for seven years.

 “McKay?” John prompted with a question this time instead of an accusation.  The scientist nodded and gave a "yes, go ahead," even as he raised his hand to his ear to start sending instructions to Zelenka or Simpson or maybe little Miko.  John removed his 9 mil from its holster then entered the room first, with a signal to Teyla to follow him in.  He didn't have to give Ronon one to have him hold back and keep an eye on McKay while the other two cleared the room.

"Okay, Radek’s got us on the grid,” McKay announced and then entered the room himself after two quite 'clears' came from inside.   “We’ve got power on-line here, but are reading no major spikes or drains so I don’t think it’s …” "

Instead of finishing he simply waved his hand back and forth and let them fill in the rest.  From past experience and all too often at someone's expense, it had been learned that power spikes generally meant the technology of the Ancestors was being activated – whether they wanted it to or not – while power drains meant … well, just about the same thing as far as Ronon had observed.  Both extremes were generally bad, like that machine that had changed McKay and given him abilities that had nearly killed him.  Or the one that _had_ killed John, until the Tau'ri’s technology and Jennifer were able to bring him back.

As John used his gene to nudge the lights to rise slowly, they discovered this particular room was even more innocuous than those other two had been.  Not too big, not too interesting; it held a few pieces of furniture and no equipment that Ronon could see.  The only things of interest were the interior door on the wall opposite of their entrance, and the near floor to ceiling windows overlooking the water that hung on their right.

With nothing else to investigate, Ronon's glance kept returning to the windows.  He couldn't see any threat there either, certainly nothing moving outside to be setting off his senses but the waves --

"McKay!" 

He and John had their guns raised upon entering as part of standard operating procedure, but now John was holding his rigid and pointing in the same direction Ronon had been staring even though there still wasn't anything to be seen.

"Are we not in an interior room?" Teyla voiced it first, both bantos sticks grasped firmly in hand instead of residing in the leather brace Ronon had made for them for her once her pregnancy had precluded her carrying them at her waist.

Yeah, they were, or they had been, so there was no way they should be overlooking their new planet's ocean. Ronon's subconscious had recognized the discrepancy even if he hadn't picked up on it consciously. "Did we get teleported?" He could appreciate technology that activated with a thought even if only John, McKay and a few others could take advantage of it, but Ronon didn't like the idea of being transported somewhere without his consent. 

'We haven't moved," McKay turned his tech toward the window.  "It's simply a projection, either a stored image or maybe it's a real time feed from a camera somewhere else in Atlantis.  If I had to make a guess, whoever used this room had a healthier understanding about needing to see a bit of nature now and then than the typical lab monkey.  With limited power, I wouldn't recommend having something like this in _every_ interior room, but while they were running with three ZPMs?” He shrugged expansively. “I don't suspect it would have been too much of a problem for a _few_ zones of pretend.  Even now, this one isn't draining enough to warrant finding an immediate off switch."

John's face took on that particular look he had when he reached out to the Ancestor's technology.  Ronon expected the projection to shut off despite McKay's words, but instead of going dark, the image changed from windows and the ocean into a screen showing the black depths of space awash with the gold and red gaseous remnants of some long ago exploded star.

"Cool," John exclaimed softly and didn't seem inclined to see if there were more images.

"If that's a real time feed from somewhere, we have to find the satellite," McKay sounded just as awed and excited.  "Are you reading a power spike now?" he then asked with his hand to his radio. 

As he was using private channel set up for the scientists, Ronon couldn't hear the answer, but McKay soon shook his head and let his lopsided frown dominate his expression.

"No spikes, so I doubt we're picking up real-time telemetry from some satellite," he let his frown deepen.  "Which makes sense seeing as this isn't Atlantis' home planet and I doubt even the Ancients randomly seeded solar systems with weap – with viewing platforms just for the off chance they went traveling with the City."

John held a sudden closed expression and even Teyla looked sad for a few moments; obviously McKay's self-correction was due to something that had happened in their year in Atlantis before Ronon's arrival.  It could have been a Ford thing, or just as likely something else and, in any case, it wasn't Ronon's business or really his concern other than feeling empathy for the sorrow his friends were now recalling. 

If it was something that could turn around and bite them on the ass (another great Earth expression), John would probably give him the bare bones of the incident, at least enough that Ronon could help in whatever defense would be necessary.  But as no explanation was forthcoming, it was obviously something emotional and not situational.  He could prod John about it later, when they were in private, but neither of them were women and so understood that certain demons didn't grow weaker when held up to the sun despite what Kate Heightmeyer had once promised.

Ronon had his own moment of sorrow in remembering that pretty lady.  And the resultant guilt John had too readily accepted over her death.

"So what is this place?" John moved over to look at McKay's handheld tech for himself.

"How should I know?"  Their melancholy remained; McKay's response held a thread of real frustration directed John's way this time instead of their general friendly squabbling.

"Art studio," Ronon jumped in to head off something more serious or angry from developing.

"Oh, please." At least McKay's voice was back to the one he got as he was ramping up for one of his ‘diva rants’ as Zelenka called them.

"Sure.  Teacher sits over there." Ronon pointed to what could have been some kind of desk.  "Students bring in their easels and the teacher dials up a subject on the projection wall.  Bet they're not all landscapes."

McKay stood dumbfounded for a few moments, staring wide-eyed in Ronon's direction before, "yes, well, despite someone's active imagination, we won't know until we do some more exploring," with his _humor the stupid people_ face now intact. 

Ronon hadn’t really needed John to explain all of McKay’s expressions, but his lover did a pretty good McKay impression, and finding something innocent to laugh about was always a good thing.

"We clearly need to open the next door since it isn't being as accommodating as the first," McKay continued on with a look and a frown that probably implied he was trying to change the image himself and was having no luck, with his artificial gene.

Ronon had turned down every one of Carson's offers to take the gene therapy that might give him the ability to interact with the Ancestor's technology -- at first because he'd never expected to stay on Atlantis and then later because all too often he'd seen the consequences of having the ability but not the knowledge of how to use so much of it.  Jennifer had never asked him about it, leaving Ronon to figure she simply thought it hadn't worked for him, just as it didn't work for most of the people who did try.

"You can't tell us anything about the room before we do that?" John sounded and looked uneasy. 

The screen did finally change again, but all of the images were outdoor shots, including one Ronon thought might have been of the area of the mainland the Athosians had settled on, on the previous planet where the expedition had first found Atlantis.

"Secret or hidden, the initial door wasn't here the last time anyone checked, so I'm thinking this isn’t just someone’s personal living quarters," John further pointed out.

"Hell, for all that I can tell from here, it could _be_ a damn art studio," McKay huffed.  "Okay, _we_ wouldn't have any reason to hide something like that and you wouldn't think the Ancient's would either.  So maybe it's something the Asurans did?  Maybe one of them got bored with its companions and made itself a hiding place or a new recharge room like 7 of 9's alcove on _Voyager,_ only he was claustrophobic.  I've got Miko overseeing the database search, but that's never proved timely in the past, as you well know.  We're either going to have to back off and ignore this, or just keep going."  McKay started toward the opposite side of the room far enough to clearly state his vote, but he was obviously waiting for someone else (John) to go first.

"Hold up, Rodney," John stopped him.  "We should make sure our secret, hidden door isn't going to disappear again once we move beyond this room.  Take a few more readings while I call up a couple Marines. That way if the door does disappear on us, someone will know where we fell off the grid."

"Zelenka is monitoring --"

"Yeah, right up until we pass into a shielded area or we enter one of those damaged areas where Atlantis' sensors aren't working," John wasn't taking no for an answer.  "It won't kill you to wait a few more minutes before stepping through the wardrobe."

Ronon got that one; a recent movie night had included _The Chronicles of Narnia_, which had been okay for something staring children and was about a people who followed a talking animal.  He'd liked the one about the big lizards that didn't talk and tried to eat the stupid people a lot better, even if there were kids in that one too.

"Fine," McKay responded in a clipped tone before wandering over toward the projection wall

"_Outside_ the room, McKay," John called him back. 

McKay didn't seem pleased, but he followed John nonetheless with only a couple of sighs.  Ronon gestured for Teyla to precede him and then he also exited the room.  Once they were all back in formation in the corridor, John worked on closing the door -- which it did -- then opened it again.  He gestured for Rodney to give it a try with his own synthetic version of the ATA gene, both closing and opening it. 

"Teyla, you want to see if you can get it to respond?"

There wasn't one of the obvious door sensors like most of the others here in Atlantis had to the right side of the opening, but Teyla was able to successfully swipe her hand in a near approximation to where the panels normally were, and the door opened for her as it had John and McKay.

"Let me see if it will also respond to me from the inside," she volunteered next. 

John looked a little reluctant, but he simply nodded and let her go back into the room alone.  Ronon wasn't sure which of them closed the door, but it looked like it didn't matter as it quickly opened and Teyla stepped back through.

"Satisfied?" McKay didn't try to contain his sarcasm.  "I've never known you to be so cautious," he continued to grumble when John took point and led them back into the room.  "I know things haven't been going our way much of late, but that only means we're due for some luck and --  Wait, you don't have some future knowledge of something going bad on Atlantis do you?" McKay interrupted himself.  "Something my future self mentioned that you're all skittish about but you don't want to say so that it doesn't become a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

"No, HoloMcKay didn't warn me about this room or this mission, Rodney," John answered with that same blend of wariness and weariness that he always seemed to have when pressed about what he'd learned in that weird, impossible trip to the abandoned Atlantis of the future.  John had actually told them very little about the outcome of the expedition the old McKay had burdened him with, telling Colonel Carter only enough specifics that she'd authorized the mission to go after Michael and rescue Teyla and Kanaan, and only telling McKay enough about it all going to hell that McKay could verify that John hadn't just been hallucinating his future jaunt while being lost somewhere else in the present. 

Because John _was_ noticeably burdened by the knowledge, Ronon figured the losses had been particularly heavy and personal, even if McKay had lived long enough to rig something up for John to be able to return to them in his proper time.  Ronon didn't want to know the how of his own possible death; he'd avoided Davros on general principle when the Seer had come to Atlantis, and then more specifically after he'd seen how troubled and hesitant Colonel Carter had become after her own glimpse of the future.

Presumably the future John had been exposed to had already been changed anyway, given all the shit they'd gone through in the last couple of months and John not only _not_ offering suggestions on avoiding the danger, but him being caught off guard so much so that they'd all ended up in the infirmary with serious injury.  If John had known they’d have ended up having to space Elizabeth now that she was a replicator a couple of days ago, or that run into their own duplicates on the _Daedalus_ less than two weeks before, Ronon was pretty sure John would have mentioned it before there'd been dead bodies.

The bodies on the _Daedalus_ of their counterparts were most likely the reason for John's uncharacteristic caution and not some potential future having happened. That alternate _Daedelus_ had showed all four of them a future where they'd walked into something not even McKay could then get them out of.  And it was a lot different being face to face with such failure than hearing about it or simply realizing it had to have happened somewhere amidst the infinite number of alternate universes McKay claimed existed.

"Your arm holding up okay?" Ronon moved up behind McKay and asked quietly.  He was counting on McKay being the genius the scientist was always claiming he was, that he'd put it together without pressing John further. 

"Yes, it's fine," McKay was confused enough that he didn't even come up with an exaggerated complaint.  "Why would you think … Oh."

Yeah, oh.  They all had reasons for being overly protective of each other and John always took it personally when anyone got hurt or killed.  When it was Team, the fallout and the guilt was always worse and took longer to put behind him, although Ronon thought that his relationship with John was helping at least a little.   

The arrival of three Marines forestalled anything else McKay might have said to make things better or worse, and John was busy giving them the SITREP to be paying attention to Ronon or McKay anyway.  Once he was satisfied and the Marines spread out to take sentry duty in the corridor, John gave McKay a _what-are-you-waiting-for_ look and impatient gesture that, at another time, Ronon might have taken for normalcy.  He didn't think McKay was fooled either; the glare he offered John in return was automatic while the unease that slid in afterward was regrettable but predictable. 

Now all of them were uneasy, as Teyla was too aware not to have picked up the emotional undercurrents the rest of them were feeling – or more likely she’d been picking up her own subconscious cues.  She’d not hesitated in participating in any mission since Torin had been born, and she’d always had responsibility to more than just herself in being the leader of the Athosians, but it was obvious that now because of Torrin's presence in her life, she was more aware of what could happen and was proving to be even more alert and careful.

"Nothing yet from the linguists and Miko," McKay updated them.  He made his way across the room to the new door, taking a spot behind Ronon who moved forward with the intent to be the one clearing the next room with John this time.

This door did have the standard crystal sensor.  Ronon waved it open and he and John entered while Teyla stayed with Rodney.  This was another room, larger than the first but definitely not big like those the scientists usually picked for labs.  It had a glass walled partition coming out halfway across the room that separated a third of it from the rest though, like some of those labs.  It also held a row of consoles in front of the partition that McKay lit up over. 

They started to light up in return, just from the proximately of either McKay or John.

"Don't touch anything," McKay called out, stating the obvious but effectively stopping the rest of them in their tracks as his distracted tone wasn’t just reminding them for the sake of giving orders.  "We've got power building up beyond what we can reasonably expect from a few disused consoles coming on line."

"Do we withdraw?" John asked from where he and Teyla had moved to check out the side of the room beyond the partition.

"Hold on.  I don't … yeah … yeah, I think we should at least until I  --"

Only there wasn't time, not for John and Teyla.  The glass partition suddenly telescoped out toward the opposite wall, closing them off within the larger part of the room. 

"McKay!"  Ronon growled the name while John simply spoke it sharply, the both of them straining along with Teyla next to John to push the glass open from opposite sides.

To his credit, McKay didn't even hesitate or look toward the exit, instead rushing to the nearest console where he began hooking up his laptop.  "It's some sort of automated sequence," he called out.  "Scanners are coming on line, plus some equipment we've never seen before.  I'm trying to interrupt it, but I can't get in to access the overrides."

_Power levels are spiking._

That was Zelenka's voice, now coming over the team's channel in recognition that John would need all the information if this turned into a crisis. 

_It is drawing on the ZPM.  I am initiating a level three evacuation in your area._

A level three evacuation would empty the floors of this tower above and below as well as the one they stood on.  That included their Marine back-up and, Ronon knew before even meeting John's gaze, him and Rodney too -- at least until the power spike was brought under control. 

Not long after Ronon’s arrival to Atlantis, he and Teyla had had a conversation about John's leadership style and why someone who was the leader of her own people would chose to follow not just someone else, but someone who had no experience or understanding about what it meant to live in a galaxy that grew up with the constant fear of the Wraith.  In the weeks and then years that had followed, Ronon had come to understand and forge his own bond with John and the Atlantean expedition, to offer his own trust and hope and loyalty.  He'd never forgotten his question then about following John's orders though, or Teyla's answer about knowing when to disobey. 

Maybe he'd had the option of disobeying John back then, but no longer, especially not after the two of them had started fucking.  Not even when John was ordering him to get McKay out of there and leave John and Teyla behind.

Later, Ronon couldn’t easily explain what he saw happen as he reluctantly began to pull away from the glass.  The room’s lighting didn’t exactly dim or brighten or even cloud, yet somehow the air and the colors on the other side of the glass … changed.  And Teyla and John _rippled_.

With McKay’s panicked and Zelenka's calmer voice announcing the evacuation providing a background soundtrack, Ronon stood rooted as he watched Teyla’s body jerk and doubled over.  Her hair covered her face and hands as she writhed, masking anything Ronon might be able to gage to get a read on what was happening. 

John had started toward her, only to then shudder himself and stumble upon reaching her.  His collapse to his knees brought her down too and only the presence of each other’s body seemed to be keeping them at all upright.

“What the fuck, McKay?” Ronon threw himself at the end of the partition again, straining to force the glass back and restore the opening between the two halves of the room.  He redoubled his effort as a thin, high-pitched keening that had to be coming from Teyla sounded over his earpiece; the more guttural moan was recognizably John’s.

“I don’t know,” McKay screamed in return, just to be heard over the rising volume of Teyla’s continuing cry.  “It’s still locked into some sort of cycle and I don’t know what might happen if I disrupt it.  Or if you shoot at anything,” McKay added, sounding more angry and scared than authoritative, although he was obviously thinking he needed to keep Ronon in check.

Ronon wasn’t that stupid – or desperate -- yet.  He'd only drawn his gun to see if he could use the butt to shatter the glass.  “John?”

“Don’t know … either,” came the strangled answer from beneath shaking shoulders as John was still bowed over.  “S-something isss –“

Teyla abruptly jerked away from John.  Her eyes were wild and pained, her face contorted and _physically_ changed into something that wasn’t fully Wraith, but still more like them than even Michael’s hybrids.  John was changing too, his transformation not so much turning him into something more as somehow, something less, some_one_ smaller and softer -- _younger_.  Young like a kid just thinking about joining the military instead of heading up one of its commands.  Young like the pictures he'd seen around the estate that John had once called home when they'd gone back for his father's funeral.

“Do it anyway, McKay,” Ronon growled out.

“Yeah, okay.”  McKay continued to babble, maybe still to him, to Zelenka instead, or perhaps only just to himself. 

Ronon tuned him out because Teyla was shrieking now, one wail after another with only pauses for breaths.  Too, she was scooting her body away from John’s even as John tried to reach for her again.  She ignored him and Ronon could see a look of indecision cross over John’s as he looked first toward Teyla and then to Ronon.  Ronon feared his own expression wasn’t particularly confident or reassuring.  Nor was McKay having any success, at least not quickly enough as he was still ranting at someone and the barrier was still up.

All at once Teyla stopped screaming _and_ moving.  Her head snapped up, her expression wasn’t one of pain or panic this time.  Instead Ronon saw only intense interest there; saw a lust in her directed toward John that wasn’t so much sexual as sheer predatory – as a Wraith -- sensing her prey.

Before Ronon could blink or John could manage his own retreat, Teyla launched herself forward.  Ronon could see John hesitate, his self-preservation instincts obviously warring with his inherent faith in Teyla.  The hesitation cost him any chance of avoiding her; John brought his hands up too late to prevent being bowled over.

In his lifetime, Ronon had witnessed hundreds of Wraith feedings.  He had fought drones and warriors, had killed Michael’s hybrids as well as faced his share of Wraith Queens including Teyla herself when she’d been under another Queen’s telepathic control.  There was no conflict in her this time, no struggle to ward or throw someone out of her mind.  This was Teyla, the fierce Athosian leader distilled into a warrior of pure fury and then melded with a Wraith’s bloodlust and hunger instinct.  Even if John hadn’t been changed himself, Ronon knew he couldn’t have held back her onslaught.

“Dammit, McKay!”

Teyla wasn’t so far transformed that she could actually feed.  Ronon could see, she wanted too though, or perhaps she didn’t actually realize that she couldn’t.  While he was trying to buck her body off from where she was straddling his hips, she pressed against his throat with one hand and used her other one to claw his shirts apart. 

Ronon hammered on the glass with his gun and fist, trying to break or it at least attract Teyla’s attention.  He didn’t even notice he had two Marines next to him hitting at the glass with the butts of their P-90s until a crack spidered its way in front of him.  Encouraged, the three of them began pounding harder, but making little more progress.

Not like Teyla was.  Ronon had a moment of disconnect upon seeing John's chest beneath the shredded t-shirt, seeing a chest only sparsely covered with hair and decidedly less defined from the one he had intimate awareness of.  So the changes were obviously more than simply to his size, but somehow Ronon hadn’t expected it to be so … complete. 

Fortunately it looked like John's mind and training were still intact even if his body and strength were not. Ronon could see the moment John let muscle memory take over, no longer clutching and trying to pry off the hand at his throat but instead launching his own attack despite the limitations to his ability to move. No longer trying to push her way, John tugged Teyla forward despite the extra weight and pressure this had to put against his throat. Obviously he was still not willing to actually hit her, so used her own precarious balance against her as well as his sudden flexibility to then twist out from under her body. Teyla slashed with her hand, catching the right side of John's face with her nails but John managed to get to his feet first anyway.

Ronon had watched John fight Teyla or the Marines in practice matches, had sparred against John himself enumerable times, enough to think he knew John's abilities as well as his style.  Practice was one thing, as was confrontations against enemies where one side or both had distances weapons.  With a start, Ronon realized that he wasn't sure he'd ever seen John really fight for his life just using hand-to-hand combat.

Teyla still had John on speed and overall flexibility, while John had retained an advantage in reach, strength and height.  John was also more in control of his own mind; his transformation just as drastic but something he’d lived through once, while Teyla had never actually _been_ a Wraith before and a part of her was obviously horrified and fighting against her new instincts.   John also had a lifetime of combat training and street fighting to call upon, and a body that was capable of moves age or scar tissue normally hampered.

If not for the part where they were trying to really hurt one another, it was actually quite beautiful to watch, the two of the gliding together and apart, trading blows and blocks and exhibiting a level of skill that the warrior in Ronon could only revel in.  It was also one of the most brutal things Ronon had ever witnessed, and there was a part of him that was near paralyzed by the thought that the two people closest to him could end up permanently injuring or killing one another, and he had no way of stopping them.

 One of the Marines wasn’t so paralyzed, was bringing his P-90 around to aim its barrel instead of using the gun butt.  Ronon reacted without thinking, bringing up his own gun and firing before the Marine had a chance to fire.  Yes, the bullets might have finished what their pounding had started, but if so they would also then cut through both of the combatants on the other side, the soldier’s gun being on full automatic.  And if the glass held up against the bullets, there was the very real possibility of ricochets on this side. 

He half expected the other Marine to turn on him in return, but he knew Sergeant Donaldson and, more importantly, the Sergeant knew him, as well as also having served here in Atlantis long enough not to automatically assume that just because two team members were trying to kill one another that the rest of them were also adversely being affected.  Instead of challenging Ronon, he moved to ease his fellow Marine down to the floor while also calling for reinforcements.  Ronon wasn’t sure if additional scientists wouldn’t be more useful than soldiers, but he agreed that Major Lorne did need to be notified of John’s current state just as Woolsey was demanding an update over the command channel that all of them were ignoring.

Unfortunately, Ronon’s stunning the Marine distracted John.  A couple of seconds were all Teyla needed to get through his guard and knock him down again.  This time she didn’t immediately pounce but instead twisted and scooped up one of her bantos sticks.  While Ronon could only give a wordless yell of fear and fury she swung.  John blocked the first blow with a raised arm, but the second impacted against his jaw and rocked his head back, a fine spray of blood painting them both before John's head than cracked against the floor and he stopped moving completely.

 “Fuck, McKay!” Ronon roared again, near insane from his own impotence as Teyla let the stick drop and again reached for John's too still chest.

“Hold on… hold… Got it!  Now, Zelenka!”   

In the next instant the lights went out, as did the almost subliminal hum of power that had filled their ears from the moment the partition had closed.  For once what Ronon guessed was a failsafe worked in their favor; the next sound Ronon could make out was the partition beginning to recede.  His and Sergeant Donaldson's efforts in speeding its retraction ended with both of them stumbling forward when all resistance disappeared between one breath and the next.

The outer doors had reopened too, and the light from the far corridor spilled enough into their room that Ronon could see that John wasn’t actually dead or even unconscious, that Teyla was no longer on top of him.  John looked dazed though, while Teyla looked both horror-struck and terrified from where she’d backed away.  She was staring at the blood that dripped from her newly pointed fingernails.

Ronon understood what she was suddenly feeling all too well although he had only vague memories of what he’d tried (been willing) to do under the influence of the Wraith and the enzyme.  He’d never been aware enough during the time he’d threatened and imprisoned his team along with Lorne’s men, had never actually _hurt_ them directly.  But he still had nightmares about what he could have done and what he'd been willing to do during his withdrawal.. 

“Teyla, stop!  It’s okay,” John called after her, his words slurred and graveling, as he tried to make it to his own feet, no doubt to go after her, only to sway and crumple back down on his ass and elbows.

Ronon was torn.  John's throat was already showing rising bruises and the side of his face was bleeding from above his eyes and down across his cheekbone from the scratches.  But Teyla was just as obviously hurting in her own right, and even more so, clearly scared.  He should let McKay or one of the Marines see after John since Teyla was also potentially a danger – at least to herself if not someone else.  Not to mention that Ronon had no doubt that John would _prefer_ he go after and help Teyla.  He really didn’t think Teyla would attack again, but given just how Wraith-like she looked at the moment, Ronon couldn’t be as confident that someone else would recognize her.

Unfortunately she moved too fast to be stopped without his shooting her, which Ronon couldn’t bring himself to do a second time.

The betrayed look John flashed him when Ronon let her go stung, as did the sheer vulnerability also exposed on John's face.  Even he rarely saw John’s feelings so bared, not when John had been in the hands of the Genii or the Replicators or even when kneeling before a Wraith Queen.  Even with the two of them now intimate and their relationship more than just fuck buddies as some of the Marines called such an arrangement, neither of them really did vulnerable -- or overt comfort.  They were relaxed with each other, of course, and protective, just as they both had always looked after their team and, really, anyone they felt responsible for.  But Ronon hadn’t felt the need – or desire since Melena -- to shelter someone as he did now with this youthful John.

A youthful John who was obviously just as stubborn as his older self and even more prideful as he shrugged off Ronon’s assistance in rising.  “I’m alright,” he claimed, though he couldn’t stand upright without swaying and could barely get the words out amidst a cough that sounded just as painful as talking.

“No, it really doesn’t look or sound like you are.”  McKay sounded as intrigued as he was disturbed, unable Ronon knew, to turn off his scientific curiosity even when faced with such consequences. 

Ronon backed away; it was easier to let McKay play nursemaid to a skittish John who, nevertheless, would submit however sullenly to the scientist’s even more obstinate insistence of seeing to John’s injuries.  McKay led John from the lab back to the outer room, while Ronon helped Sergeant Donaldson carry the stunned Marine out.

 “Rodney, let me first organize –" John stopped talking with a hiss when McKay ignored him and started to clean away the blood coating the side of John’s face enough to see the extent of the damage underneath.

“I’m on it … Sir.”

John nodded in acknowledge to Major Lorne’s offer, as Ronon did to the question in Lorne’s eyes that yes, this boy really was his commanding officer.   Enough of what had happened must have been transmitted over their radios that Lorne at least knew who they were looking for; he began issuing orders to the Marines on duty in the ready room to pair off into two man search teams – and to be armed only with Wraith stunners as they searched for an affected Teyla. 

 “They’re to fire only if they need to defend themselves,” John growled. "Talk her down, contain her if they have to, but no confrontations.  And they sure as fuck better call me if they find her first –“

“Stop talking," McKay tutted quietly as he began palpitating the various bruises now becoming visible on John's near hairless chest.  "Jennifer’s not going to let you out of sickbay to go chasing after her, so Ronon and I will take care of it.  God, you really were a skinny thing, weren't you?"

McKay was right about that; John had only lost a couple of inches in height, but probably at least a fifth of his mass, most of it muscle.

"I'll check in with Kellar after we've found Teyla," John flushed and bristled at either the implied restriction or McKay's faint amusement and the slight against John's new appearance.  He tried to pull away from McKay's hands again while also attempting to close his outer shirt -- and keep his pants from sliding down his near non-existent hips. 

Ronon would have been amused too, if they had any idea of why John and Teyla had been changed and if they both hadn't been hurt from this.  He was concerned by the scratches; he had first hand knowledge of the type of infections you could get from Wraith claws, plus Ronon wasn't sure that Teyla might not have also scratched John's eye in addition to the side of his face.  John's rapid blinking and tearing could have just been in reaction to the blood, but …

At least the rest of John's injuries looked superficial, if no doubt painful.  Ronon knew the type of aches John could shrug off, as well as the little tics and flinches when it was something more significant but still not something he felt worth bothering about; no cracked ribs or other broken bones this time -- not even his jaw -- that Ronon could detect. 

Instead of worrying or calling attention to any of it, however, Ronon moved past the two of them as McKay slip out of and offer his jacket to John as neither of John's shirts could likely be repaired without having to add swaths of cloth to replace what had been torn away.  He gave a nod to McKay to express his gratitude for the scientist's attentions to John's well-being and returned back into the room that had given them so much trouble. 

Lorne looked ready to go with him, but Ronon gestured to the consoles that were still lit up, maybe because of McKay's computer still being hooked up and maybe because of whatever its functions were.  Lorne got it without having to ask.  Out of all the artificial ATA gene successes the strength of Lorne's abilities with the Ancestor's tech was second only to McKay's so the likelihood of starting something up all over again was too much to take the risk just for company or the need to examine the remains of something they already knew the general results of. 

"Is there anything else you can fill me in on as to what happened here?" Lorne asked as Ronon came back out with Teyla's bantos sticks and John's 9 mil.  Lorne accepted the gun, tucking it against his back after he'd popped out the clip and removed the bullet from the chamber, then he held out his hands for Teyla's weapons since Ronon didn't really have any place to keep them himself.

Ronon shrugged as he watched John tighten his belt and just strip off the remains of his shirts.  "Ancestral tech got activated.  McKay stopped it, but not before it changed both of them.  Teyla is pretty much a Wraith and Sheppard's now a kid."

"I didn't get a very good look, is her transformation as complete as his? Did she do that to him?"

Ronon nodded at a now ashen-faced Lorne then looked back to John.  McKay's jacket dwarfed John's new body.  It looked like his boots were too big too.  So, like with his shirt, John simply discarded them to complete his look of a kid playing at being a soldier.  One who was obviously impatient to pursue Teyla. 

Ronon wasn't about to let him go off alone -- or just with McKay.  "No feeding hand," he called back to Lorne, "but she's got the instincts.  Pretty sure she's still Teyla though too."

"Well thank heaven for small favors," he heard Lorne mutter and then begin issuing orders to post guards outside of the room to keep anyone unauthorized from entering.  At the same time McKay was passing along his own orders for Zelenka to put together a team to come down and study the room, and to make sure no one he picked had the ATA gene.

"You going to fill Woolsey in?" Ronon asked when John twisted his head to give him a look as he moved between John and McKay to take the position at John's right shoulder.  If John's eye was compromised, he wasn't going to leave it to McKay to compensate for John's limited vision.  Not that John was letting it or any of his other aches and pains slow him down.

McKay started to protest being pushed aside, but then turned his irritation on John when John twisted even more and reached back to grab a life-signs detector out of McKay's vest.  "Hey!"

"After we've gotten to Teyla," John ignored McKay's fussing. 

His voice obviously affected by the damage his throat had taken, Ronon could now also hear that it was off in pitch, no doubt another consequence of the physical changes John's body had undergone.  John really didn't sound like himself, which in turn amplified the differences in his appearance. 

"Well, with this area in a level three lockdown, there shouldn't be that many bodies left around to check out," McKay tried to find the bright side while John activated the tech and held it out for them to get a look.

In the expanded field of the screen there were two large clusters of dots representing people -- their group and the ones back with Lorne, Ronon decided.  There were also several single dots and a couple of double dots; definitely more people around than Ronon had expected given the evacuation announcement as he was pretty sure the search teams and Zelenka's people couldn't have gotten in here this quickly.  Teyla would have also been trapped within, so she was probably one of the dots positioned before one of the doors.

"That's assuming she won't just answer," John had his own hopeful look when he handed the device back to McKay.  He pointed to one of the single dots a floor below them and started them off that direction. 

There were several potential indicators that could be Teyla; one was just as good as another in Ronon's mind and at least they were doing something other than just standing around.

"Teyla, you okay?" John reached up and tapped his comm. 

_I am …_

Although she paused and what little of her voice he could hear sounded disturbed, Ronon breathed a sigh of relief to hear her respond over the team's channel.  He'd been right that she was still Teyla despite her current appearance and instincts.

"Teyla?" John prompted again.

_I am as well as can be expected, John.  I … are you …_

"Yeah, same here.  A little banged up and changed for the experience, but Keller will get the first sorted out while Rodney fixes the rest.  You ready for a little company?"

_Should I be concerned that you knew so readily where to find me?_

"Actually, Teyla, we're not sure where you are right now."

Ronon met John's confused look with a shrug of his own.

_Oh, then that is not you just outside this room?  I though --_

_OH MY GOD, COLONEL, THERE ARE WRAITH IN ATLANTIS!_

The Marine's voice came across on the emergency channel, cutting through their communication link, his panicked tones loud enough to nearly blow their eardrums.

"Negative, Marine!" John bellowed back, switching over to the command channel so that he could reach everyone on duty.  "Everybody stand down," he ordered and began racing down the corridor to the nearest stairwell that he, in turn, started sliding down the rail with all the recklessness of a … well, a teenager too confident in his abilities.

"There isn't really --"

_Who in the hell is this?_ Woolsey did his own interrupting, obviously not able to recognize John's voice. 

Any response John might have made was lost under the staccato sounds of gunfire and a muted cry of pain from Teyla that was all too easy to make out over the team channel Ronon still maintained.  So too was John's wordless yell of rage and Woolsey's bleat of alarm cutting across all channels, and then:

_I GOT HER, SIRS! REQUESTED BACK-UP IN G SECTOR, LEVEL TWELVE.  I DON'T KNOW WHERE HER ATTENDENTS ARE._

_This is Sheppard and there are no fucking Wraith_, John was screaming and coughing again, still sounding like Ronon's Uncle had after a life-time of smoking canto leaves.

The stenciled number 12 on the stairwell landing's wall confirmed they were heading in the right direction, but they still had a tower's worth of corridors and rooms to check to find Teyla and the trigger-happy Marine, which was the only reason Ronon let McKay pull him back for a second despite that meaning that John was increasing his lead on them and only just in sight; John's new youth and adrenalin had him actually faster than Ronon for once.  Fortunately McKay really was the genius that he claimed and several years of being teammates had him already anticipating.  The screen he showed Ronon this time held blue dots that were obviously them by the quickly departing one that had to be John, and a green one off to their right that was Teyla going by the second red colored dot slowing converging on her position.  Thank the Maker she was only two corridors away.

"Right, straight then left," Ronon yelled out to John, then gestured after him to McKay who nodded and shooed Ronon forward.  While Ronon raced to catch up, he could hear McKay first contact Lorne, then Lorne finishing the orders John hadn't.

_This is Major Lorne.  All Marine teams stand-down.  We are not under attack by Wraith.  I repeat, there are no Wraith currently in Atlantis.  Dr. Keller, please prepare a medical team to report to G Sector, Level Fifteen where they will find a Marine escort ready to grant them access to the evacuated floors. _

"He's wrong," Ronon heard in the harsh, choked whisper as he rounded the last corner and found himself running into one of the enclosed parks.  There was no sign of John, the Marine or Teyla, other than the Marine's panicked mutterings which Ronon quickly honed in on.

"He must be compromised.  God, maybe they all are.  Maybe this is a fucking Foothold Situation, 'cause that sure as hell wasn't Colonel Sheppard"

Ronon wanted to scream himself.  The park was set up as some kind of maze, which had delighted both the anthropologists and the botanists when it had been first discovered.  More than one team dinner had been spent listing to Katie Brown go on and on about the design and the resiliency of the plant material used in it and the two others they'd found while she'd been dating McKay a couple years ago.  Ronon hadn't understood what the big deal about them was; it wasn't as if the mazes were unique to Atlantis or anything.  He had made sure to demonstrate to John what they'd been used for on Sateda, though.  Never this one, as the one near the East Pier was not that far off their morning run route yet was in one of the uninhabited areas of the city and so they'd never run into anyone else or been surprised.

Now, all the potential trysting places were instead potential ambush spots, and although Ronon had heard the Marine clear enough to start with, his ranting was less audible now and Ronon still had no clear idea of where the Marine (or his teammates) was or how to reach him.  If he hadn't been concerned about the plants catching fire or who might be standing just beyond the row in front of him, Ronon would simply start shooting his way through the maze.

"-- be a hero if I can just …her again -- Wait … was that?"

While the Marine's words were intermitted, the subsequent spray of gunfire wasn't, at least not until it was abruptly cut off. Still, Ronon had heard enough to get his bearings and to feel confident taking a couple shots of his own.  He might still start a fire, but not quickly enough to block his passage through, and more than likely Atlantis had some sort of fire suppressant system here anyway since it did in so many other areas.  If he was wrong …

Didn't matter.  He didn't have time to worry about right or wrong or figuring out his way through some stupid maze.

''-- you stupid fuck!  How…Many … Times … Were … You … Told…"

That voice was John's, distorted now not just by his de-aging and his near strangulation, but from obvious anger and efforts of exertion that Ronon recognized with a frisson of misplaced pride as well as fear.  Ronon knew what he would find before he rounded a corner and so wasn't surprised to see John and the Marine aggressively fighting one another with murderous intent. 

It was the sight of Teyla crumpled unmoving on the path beyond the two combatants that edged Ronon's own movements in rage, although even as he raced to assist John, he could see Teyla roll over and begin to rise.  So not dead then, though no thanks to the Marine John was wailing on and that Ronon didn't actually recognize.  Someone new off the last _Apollo_ run, then, which he supposed could account for his panic and rash actions.

Not just new, but someone who really didn't look much older than John's current age, and someone who has nearer in Ronon's size than John's.  Not that John wasn't holding his own or maybe even going to prevail, but the Marine was just as scared and angry as John if for different reasons, and he had a look to him that still spoke of panic -- of someone who would be willing to escalate this hand-to-hand combat into something more if he could gain enough of an advantage to pull his own combat knife.

At least both the Marine's P-90 and handgun were some distance away.

"Stand down soldiers!" Ronon roared an order worthy of Kell at his fiercest.  Even if the Marine wasn't in Atlantis long enough to recognize an altered John or Teyla, Ronon had little doubt his own presence could be mistaken; he had his own reputation back in the SCG for all new recruits to hear about, now much enhanced after his and Teal'c's defense of it when the Wraith had reached Earth through the Midway Station.

It wasn't enough to stop the two, and neither was Teyla's muted gasp as she stood and caught sight of the conflict.

Once more Ronon was tempted to just shoot.  But Teyla was in his line of sight behind the two grappling.  Jennifer might not be able to treat her injuries properly if Teyla was stunned, plus there was no guaranteeing that such a disruption to her body in it current state might affect some sort of further change -- not to mention doing something similar to John's.

The practical and worried part of his brain overrode the portion that wanted to see the fight go to its conclusion. Ronon charged forward and grabbed John around his waist to swing him away from the Marine.  He took the in motion Marine's jab against his own shoulder and used this momentum to be pushed further away.

"Let me go," John growled low and tight, struggling against Ronon's hold.  "He's still standing."  Not just spitting mad, but John was actually shaking in rage.

"So is Teyla," Ronon did his own growling, breathing it right into John's ear so that the Marine wouldn't overhear and change targets, hoping it would be enough to calm John down that he might then better deal with the Marine. 

Unfortunately John wasn't the only one still looking to win the fight.  The Marine used the sudden break to reach for his knife, which in turn sent Ronon reaching for his gun.

"Oh, just give it a fucking rest, you three," McKay's voice came from behind.  "We're all on the same side and we've got it under control, Sergeant."

Shockingly, McKay's arrival did bring the Marine up short.  "I'm not a Sergeant, Sir.  And are you sure?"

He sounded more cowed than defensive, still scared but finally willing to believe what he was hearing.  Ronon wasn't sure if it was because the Marine had finally regained his wits enough to recognize him, or if it was actually McKay's reputation that put this new fear and reluctant trust in the boy's eyes. Ronon only cared that the Marine was finally standing down -- even swaying a bit, so John must have gotten a few good shots in beyond the blackened eye already visibly swelling, and the way the soldier was favoring his left leg.

John wasn't doing a whole lot better; his scratches were bleeding freely again and there was a new hitch in his breath that could mean ribs or maybe he'd taken a shot to his throat again, or --

Shit.

Or maybe Ronon didn't exactly have a hold so much around John's waist as around his hips to try and stop John from wriggling his way free.

All too well could he remember being John's apparent age, and experiencing a similar rage and adrenalin-fueled arousal.  Kell had recognized it too, breaking up the fight before Ronon could kill the bastard who had ambushed one of his training mates and put him medical all because of a game of chance and a stupid dare.  Kell had taken care of Ronon beyond keeping him out of trouble, had taken him back to the barracks to discipline him for the infraction gained from brawling.  Kell had also praised Ronon for his loyalty and then had fucked him and gotten Ronon off, thus cementing Ronon's loyalty to his new Task Master.

Ronon shifted his hand, resolutely ignoring the soft moan that escaped from John as he did so. He didn't go so far as releasing him; John was still practically vibrating out of his skin.

"Are you okay, Sheppard?" McKay sounded worried, having misinterpreted the nature of the moan and John's reluctance to move away from Ronon.

"I'm good," John rasped out, his fingers digging into Ronon's forearm.  "See to Teyla."

McKay shot Ronon a glance still filled with concern, but quickly transferred it Teyla's direction as the Marine's attention was also drawn that way.  At least he had resheathed his knife upon McKay's arrival.

"Teyla?" the boy croaked. "You mean this Wraith is Miss Emmagan?"

Like the others of her team, Teyla had her own reputation with the Marines, both here and those back at the SGC.  'Miss Emmagen' had started when Cam Mitchell from SG-1 had come to Atlantis, to then be picked up by old and new expedition members alike, much to her and her team's amusement.  That it was a term of great respect had to be explained to her and Ronon, of course, something McKay had taken exceptional delight in doing by pointing out the _dis_respect John had shown her upon their first meeting as opposed to meeting their 'Southern Gentleman' visitor.  Part of the continued delight the entire team now found in it came from the confusion of the newer arrivals who met Teyla along with Torren and Kanaan.  Not all of them were sure how to reconcile their own customs of calling the mother of a child 'Miss'.  Few of the old-timers, the civilians along with the Marines, seemed keen to keep the 'newbies' from embarrassing themselves.

"Despite appearances, there is no Wraith, you bone-headed idiot." 

It looked like McKay just refrained from hitting the Marine on the back of his head.  He didn't not out of any sense of self-preservation in this particular time, Ronon was pretty sure, but because his attention was wholly caught up in Teyla's well-being, leaving his mouth on automatic.  Standard rant number two: _Blasting the Idiot Newbies for Touching or Getting Involved in Things That Should Be Left Alone._

"When in doubt, listen to what you are told.  Taking the initiative here in Atlantis is more likely to get someone killed than promoted."

Fortunately, Teyla didn't seem to be seriously injured, so having the Marine bear the brunt of McKay's disdain was probably better than letting John any further loose with his anger -- or Ronon with his own.  Not that Ronon was going to let it go any more than he suspected John -- or Lorne -- would, though later when everyone had been put to right.  Ronon had his own way of initiating new Marines to the differences and necessities of survival in the Pegasus Galaxy, a way of reinforcing messages that wouldn't be written off and forgotten as just some sort of simple military discipline for a screw up. 

Like McKay said, screwing up here in Atlantis or really anywhere in Pegasus all too often got someone killed.  And while Ronon was a firm believer in what the expedition members called Darwin in Action, were John in his right mind, he'd be feeling more guilty than angry for not making sure the new Marines were better versed in the kind of shit that happened when the tech and the City of the Ancestors were involved.

"Just follow the scorch holes in the hedge, then turn left at the next bend," McKay was saying abruptly, apropos of nothing he was doing with Teyla, and not to any of the rest of them just standing and waiting.

It took Ronon a few seconds to figure out that he was talking on his comm; that someone else had followed and was catching up.  No real surprise, then, to see Lorne arrive once more, along with a medical team including a gurney.

No Jennifer, but she was probably prepping the infirmary for the battery of tests that would be in Teyla and John's future after the treatment of their current injuries.  If Ronon and McKay were lucky, they'd escape the full set of their own, but he had little doubt he'd be able to get away with _no_ time under a scanner.

All the more reason to take care of certain things here and now.

While Lorne saw to the Marine and McKay made sure Teyla was being looked after, Ronon started to guide John away from rest.  One of the corpsmen started after them, but Lorne stepped in front and redirected her to the Marine.  Ronon was pretty sure Lorne had seen only that John was out of control and nothing too specific or too embarrassing, smart enough to fill in maybe even all of the blanks, but also smart enough to know to let Ronon deal with it.  Lorne had his own four-man team in addition to his responsibility to all of the Marines under his and John's command, and he'd had to do his own share of talking down -- or being talked down -- when one of his team got hurt.

That Lorne trusted Ronon enough to see to John before making John faced Jennifer and her infirmary staff -- before facing Woolsey -- was one of the reasons Ronon had never tried to find a different place for himself within Atlantis' military chain of command.  John already had a Second worthy of him, leaving Ronon to be able to offer a different kind of support.

McKay sent another glance their direction, but he'd also been given responsibility over Teyla, which was too important to screw up, plus he trusted Ronon in his own right.  McKay and John's friendship had taken a few hits when Ronon and John's relationship had deepened, but McKay's unwarranted bouts of jealousy had been easily enough overcome when John hadn't stopped coming around the lab to bug McKay, or drag the prickly scientist off for games or movies or breaks just like he always had.  It had also helped when McKay had decided to pursue his own deeper relationship with Jennifer, thereby acknowledging his own changing priorities.

"Despite what my body may look like, I'm not a child," John finally spit out after they were out of sight -- and hearing -- of the others.  "You don't have to fucking man --"

Ronon shut him up by pulling him around and ruthlessly taking John's mouth with is own.  He tasted fear in addition to the rage and the blood, and plundered until the rage was rising again, until John was fighting to get away -- and to get closer.  It took no effort to get John stumbling, to get him laid back along one of the many cold stone benches hidden from the main paths, and to kneel and insinuate his hand under the fully tightened belt that could still barely keep John's pants on his hips and to grasp John's cock in a tight hold that pinned him there as effectively as Teyla's hand had against his throat. 

This wasn't about their relationship, wasn't really even about sex as it was just to get John off, to let him rail and writhe within the spike of emotions and hormones racing through his body no less dangerous than spikes of power threatened Atlantis.  To let him explode and contain that explosion, to give him the release of body and mind, all the while knowing that John might never thank him for it, might not understand even when things were back to normal, but able to do nothing less.

This was a taboo John would never cross, would be the last of any physical affection between them until John was restored to his proper age if not the last ever exchanged between them.  For John was not like Kell; he'd been horrified to hear the Ronon's first sexual experience had been with Kell as part of his training -- as a way to bind and bond Ronon to the man who took the responsibility of training and tasking Ronon's position within Sateda's military.  That John was willing now, was eager, practically begging for it wouldn't matter once John had recovered himself --

No, it would matter; John was too honorable to blame Ronon for something that John had encouraged and needed.  But the shame of this could end them, could be the last nail in John's coffin as they phrased it, one weight too much to bear with the rest of the hiding and lies that comprised John's sexuality.

John climaxed in shuddering silence, near curling over Ronon's hand and his own lap. Ronon fumbled for on of his remaining field bandages and used it to clean up first John and them himself with as much clinical practicality as he could manage even if he wanted to fold John within his arms and just hold him until things got back to normal. 

To his utter shock, John didn't pull away from him when he was done shaking, didn't retreat into a young man's bruised pride and confusion.  Instead John reached out for Ronon, not for Ronon's own cock which hadn't stirred during any of this, but for his jaw and then his mouth in a kiss as gentle and caring as the first had been brutal and impersonal.

"Thank you," John whispered against his lips, giving Ronon hope that like with Teyla, the real John was really still trapped there within his new body, and that instincts and hormones could be wrested back under control.

Hope that maybe things could be returned to normal -- all things.

**2.**

Rodney's pacing reflected the state of his mind, his feet trying to go two directions at once and thus tripping him up, just as his need to be down with Radek overseeing the investigation of the secret room warred with his need to be here while Jennifer checked over Teyla -- and while he waited for Ronon to bring in John for his own tending. He understood why Ronon had taken John away first; when he'd first rounded that last section of the hedge maze and caught sight of the tableau between Ronon, John, the Marine and Teyla, he really hadn't been sure that even Ronon was going to be able to keep John from killing the Marine.  The only time he'd ever seen John that furious was when John confronted Kolya or Michael (on Doranda and after Elizabeth, the first time), and it had been damn disconcerting to see such rage on the face of the smooth-jawed, sixteen or seventeen year old boy that John now appeared to be.

He got that the Ancients were thousands, maybe millions of light years ahead of them in the levels of their science, that those 'exalted' beings could ignore physics and change the laws of the natural universe.  What Rodney _didn't_ get, however, is why they did such wondrous things so stupidly and so cavalier.  Surely even in their own time, not everyone was geniuses like Janus or Merlin.  Hell, Rodney knew that to be untrue just from the few sterling examples of Ancients they'd actually met: Chaya, Helia -- or even the noble but ultimately doomed crew of the Aurora.  And that was before considering the reckless disregard the Ancients had for the denizens of the Pegasus Galaxy by creating both the Wraith and the Asurans, then simply leaving the natives to be enslaved or to become food thanks to their creations.

So.  Some Ancient had discovered a way to transform matter from one state to another while ignoring the laws of conservation of energy and mass, creating the proverbial Philosopher's stone.  And this device could change the very chemistry of the material down to the molecular level, including rewriting DNA while leaving the brain -- or at least memory -- intact.  If they'd had this kind of technology though, why the subsequent experimentation into longevity that had led to the Wraith and the Asurans?  If their ultimate goal was ascension, why create something to restore youth or to release inner nightmare/beauty?  Rather counterintuitive to the whole leaving your burdens behind philosophy they all now espoused. 

Rodney supposed if it was really _old_ Ancient technology, it might have come hand in hand with the other attempts of preserving life long enough to be able to attain ascension.  After all, that what's the time dilation fields and fake ascension machines had to be for -- a cheat to ease you on your way to enlightenment and becoming one with All of Creation.  But why had this device been simply locked away instead of destroyed after its usefulness had ended and its purpose been surpassed by other priorities?  And why had the room suddenly gone from secret to not secret _now_?  Or was Teyla right from the beginning in that it had never been secret, only hidden?

That still begged the question of why now and why his team had to be the one affected by it.  So many things had changed in Atlantis after the return of the _Tria_ and her crew, after the occupation by the Asurans and after Rodney's people had needed to move Atlantis from the planet that the Ancients had once called home.  But why would any of those factors change something secret or hidden into something so fucking exposed?

It _couldn’t_ be a Philosopher's Stone.  If the Ancients really had something that powerful, they wouldn't have needed to flee the Wraith and the Pegasus Galaxy, because combined with limitless energy in the form of the ZPMs and with a device that could alter that energy into anything they needed, they could have created ships, weapons, shocks troops … frankly, the could have transformed just about anything into something else with all the ease that the Asurance modified their nanites.  No way they should have lost their war.  Not against the Wraith, the Asurans or the Ori.

Still, whatever it was, it really had transformed both John and Teyla, true alterations at least in Teyla's case according to Jennifer, and Rodney had no reason to doubt it would be different with John.  Even if it only changed living, organic material and didn't work on inert matter (it hadn't changed either John or Teyla's clothes or weaponry for instance), that still should have given the Ancients a great advantage over their adversaries; it have made a great tool to aid infiltrations if nothing else. 

Unless maybe it wouldn't allow changes beyond what was actually encoded within DNA?  Teyla did have recessive and dominant Wraith genes along with her Athosian/human ones, just as John had actually once been a teenager -- _that_ teenager.

Maybe the question/purpose wasn't the change itself.  Well it was obviously the change, but with another component?  It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to assume the additional component to be mental, given that was how the bulk of Ancient tech worked.  So not that they became and Wraith and a kid, but _why_ they became those things.  It couldn't be a pre-programmed response; not too many Ancients had Wraith DNA as part of their genetic makeup.  So there had to be some kind of intent here. 

Could it be some sort of technical analog to the crystalline entity that had hijacked their hidden fears and nightmares?  Certainly that would beg the question as to why…

Did John have nightmares about his teenage years?  Rodney supposed he might (Rodney did), but surely John had more significant demons keeping him awake at night?

Rodney did know that Teyla had had nightmares about becoming a Wraith soon after she'd learned about the genetic changes her ancestors had been subjected too.  And it was likely that all of that had come to the fore because of Michael and his personal interest in Teyla and Torren. 

Shit.  Did _John_ worry about Teyla being turned into a Wraith?  It was John's magic gene after all, that could have shaped their transformations.

Only Rodney had been the one operating the device and his own gene, while not magic, was perfectly functional and might have been the catalyst.  The console had been in his half of the room, not John's, anyway.

But why in the hell would his subconscious have done that to them?  Sure, he had issues with both kids and Wraith, but he didn't really have _nightmares_ about them.  And John would have ended up being six or seven if it was really about one of his lesser fears, while Teyla would have turned blonde and become as educated as she was intelligent.

No, this was still personal for the ones transformed, even if it wasn't about significant nightmares.  Not nightmares, not exactly current fears, but maybe …

Oh, fuck.  _Issues_.  Not a damn art studio, but a psychiatrist's office, complete with an Ancient's version of sandplay therapy in the magic window, and more advanced forms of role-playing next door for those in _serious_ need of help.  Rodney would bet his entire year's worth of chocolate and coffee rations that he was right.

He reached up and tapped at his earbug.  "Miko, shift over to the medical database.  You're going to find it there."

"Rodney?" 

The question came from both his radio (Radek) and from behind him (Jennifer), which caused Rodney to stumble over his feet once more.  While he flailed for balance he kept one hand raised to keep Jennifer silent and stationary while he first addressed Radek.

"The change has to be temporary, Radek, and I'm betting it doesn't work on inorganics."

_Otherwise, yes, would be some kind of Philosopher's Stone_, Radek agreed in that freakish way he had of nearly reading Rodney's mind.  _We can confirm the latter while also checking to see if there is any indication as to how long former takes.  Because you leave the sequence incomplete, there may be some delay or even acceleration, but outcome cannot be permanent because Ancients would have made purposeful mistakes all the time to take advantage and stay youthful, yes?_

Yes.  Or, so Rodney was hoping.

"You've figured out what it is?" Jennifer asked in that overly-hopeful way that Rodney found annoying in other people, but mostly endearing when she did it.  "That it is only temporary?"

With Jennifer it never seemed like she was doubting him so much as she was simply unwilling to believe in good luck.  Which, after her own adventures in Pegasus including how she'd gotten to become the Chief Medical Officer, was something Rodney understood all too well himself.  He simply assumed the worst-case scenarios instead of getting his hopes up like she did, each and every time, despite how many times that blew up in their faces.  It's why she came across so young (as young as she really was) instead of having her own brand of genius age her as Rodney's had. 

"Yeah, I think I have," he offered as he turned to face her.  "There is an awful lot about it that wouldn't make sense given what we do know of the Ancients and how desperate they'd become in the end.  It has to be temporary and, I'm thinking, something for some kind of therapy --"

"Hold up there, Rodney.  Save your breath and explain it to all of us at once," she smiled much more confidently, though her face still had a slight cast of unease to it.  "Mr. Woolsey isn't going to wait much longer now that I've finished my exams."

"Exams, plural?  Wait, you've already seen Sheppard too?  When did he come in?  Why didn't I see him come in?"

"Because you were lost in your own head."  Ronon came up behind Jennifer.  "And she's right, Woolsey looks like he's been chewing _fristzu_ weed -- or ready to go a few rounds with a Marine or two himself.  Or maybe just against you and John."

"John's alright?  And Teyla?"

Jennifer nodded.  "They're both doing as well as they can be given what's happened, but I'm not really wanting to go through everything twice myself.  Come on back with us and let's put as much of this day behind us as we can."

Rodney nodded, only now taking a glance at his watch and seeing that most of an hour had passed from when he'd escorted Teyla's gurney here.  No wonder Woolsey's panties were in a wad.

The first thing that caught his attention as he followed Jennifer and Ronon from the designated waiting room into the infirmary proper was Woolsey coming out of Jennifer's office.  He indeed looked pissed-off, looked an awful lot like all of the times Rodney had run into him before the bureaucrat had become Atlantis' new commander and finally began to ease up on the officiousness. 

When Woolsey caught sight of Rodney in return, his face became even more sour, although part of that might have also been directed Jennifer's way. Obviously Jennifer had directed Woolsey to her office while neglecting to mention that Rodney was in the waiting room. 

He'd have to remember to give her proper thanks for that once they were both off duty.

"I suppose you have a good explanation for this," Woolsey challenged them with a pinched voice and expression.

"What, for taking the time to make sure my team is okay and that Atlantis isn't in any danger?" Rodney shot back in return, again not sure which of them was the major focus of Woolsey ire yet more than happy to deflect it his way.  "You can't tell me that Major Lorne hasn't already given you the initial SITREP," he added upon seeing the Major coming in behind Woolsey from outside the infirmary. 

Lorne frowned and slowed his step, looking like he’d rather be turning around and leaving.  But he sucked it up and stepped forward, taking up a position near Woosley, but not enough to really be accused of supporting (or gainsaying) him.

"While the Major has excellent skills in cover both his own ass and those belong to your team,” Woolsey smiled thinly; obviously aware of Lorne’s arrival “his information was second-hand at best.  I believe in getting my information from the source when it’s available."

"Yes, well --"

"Where is Teyla?"

In his concern with Woolsey, Rodney hadn't actually realized that John and Teyla weren't set up in the infirmary, though by the male nurse who was standing next to a wet-haired John, he was being returned after a needed shower.  Now, though, Rodney saw what John had noticed immediately.  Teyla was missing and not just taking her own shower by the uneasy look Jennifer was sporting again. 

“Colonel, you really shouldn’t be trying to talk,” and now Jennifer sounded timid instead of scolding him with the type of authoritative voice Carson had quickly learned to adopt when dealing with an ‘I’m fine’ yet injured John Sheppard.

A Sheppard who ignored her, of course as he glared instead at Woolsey.

Woolsey's own expression started out rather defensive, though he covered it quickly with a false smile and a look of authority and determination.

"Colonel Sheppard.  You’re looking rather …"  Woolsey simply fluttered his hand, obviously not knowing how to finish that sentence. 

Physically, John looked way too much like Xander in the last few episodes of Buffy after Nathon Fillion's Caleb had gotten to him, but because neither Jennifer nor Ronon, or even John seemed as freaked out by the eye patch, Rodney decided the injury must not be permanent.  John might deny or repress a lot of things yet no one could be so sanguine about an eye injury unless he was confident that it was only temporary

John had bruises too, around his throat and from his cheek bone down to his jaw.  it was the scratches however, now closed with fine stitches, as well as that fucking eye patch that  kept Rodney’s attention even beyond John’s extraordinary youth.  That patch, and John’s obvious expression of anger, which was just as disconcerting since for the most part and especially in front of Woolsey, John _never_ let his feelings be so easily read.   

"Where.  Is. Teyla?" John repeated, all that anger completely focused at Woolsey.  Even being on the face of a teenager, it was rather daunting.

Certainly Lorne was starting to look uncomfortable.

"I have determined that for the safety of Teyla herself, as well as for the other members of the expedition," Woolsey thrust his chin up, "it would be better if she recuperates in one of the isolation room." 

"What the fuck?" John sputtered and rasped, wrenching his arm away from the nurse who was trying to direct him to one of the beds, moving until he was just inches away from Woolsey -- and now at least an inch below him too.

"Teyla is currently a Wraith.  You should be the first to agree that there are dangers --"

"No more than when Todd is here," John interrupted.  "Are you telling me that Teyla is more dangerous than a real Wraith?"

"Are you telling me she is not?" Woolsey countered dryly

John didn’t look amused.

"I understand you are upset, Colonel," Woolsey tried to sound more consoling while crossing his arms defensively.  "But Doctor Keller assures me that Teyla's own injuries were minimal.  The … unfortunate gun shot was just a graze that has given her a headache yet no concussion." He looked quickly to Jennifer for confirmation. 

"I've given her something strong enough that she'll probably just sleep through the rest of the afternoon and most of the night." Jennifer did a better job at sounding reassuring yet John didn’t look mollified. 

"I or one of my staff will stay on call, of course.  And Teyla has a radio with direct access to the on-duty nurse."

"So nothing to worry about," Woolsey sounded even more patronizing.  "And I am sure that Doctor McKay here will also assure me that this … transformation is temporary, right?  Over by morning, perhaps?  So this --"

“No." John shook his head before Rodney could agree or disagree.

"Excuse me?" Woolsey actually appeared to be shocked at John’s response.

"What if we’re not better by morning?  What if we’re like this way for days or months?" John continued, his hands clenched at his hips.  "Are you going to keep her under guard indefinitely? Or simply throw her out of Atlantis? "

Unable to answer, of course Woolsey looked to Rodney.

Rodney held up his hand, letting his expression show his anger on Teyla’s behalf, and for his own.  As per normal, he was expected to fix everything, not to mention to tell everyone what they wanted to hear.  “Yes, I think it’s temporary, but no, I don’t know if they will be restored in an hour, or next week or next year,” he frowned.  “Even my team needs more than an hour to figure out entirely new and undocumented technology.”

For just an instant Rodney thought he saw a flash of fear in John’s eye, but the face he then turned back to Woolsey held only his typical confidence in Rodney, as well as an undisguised challenge.

"What, you would just send her back to her husband and her child looking like that?" Woolsey scoffed in tone and voice yet his own expression was much less assertive.  "Torren would be scarred for life."

"Torren is seven months old," Rodney stepped in willingly this time.  "The only thing he’s going to remember is that she's still smelled, felt and tasted like Mom."  Unsurprised by Woolsey's decision, Rodney also wasn’t all that surprised John was choosing Teyla’s treatment to be his line in the sand.  John and Woolsey had been heading for a confrontation from the moment Woolsey replaced Sam as the head of the expedition.

"Maybe so, but it is still inappropriate," came Woolsey's weak counter.

"Maybe so," John parroted right back. "But that would be Kanaan's decision to make, not yours."

Woolsey sported his own frown now, and a slight tic below his left eye.

"If you're going to isolate Teyla, why aren't you isolating Sheppard too?" Ronon finally spoke up.

Again a flash of uncharacteristic emotion flitted across John’s face – betrayal or hurt this time – yet Ronon was technically right.  John was obviously just as affected.  Not just in appearance, but emotionally too given his retaliation against the idiot Marine, and his reaction to Woolsey.

“I do not think that the Colonel, in his current state, could remotely be considered a significant threat – I’m mean, with his injuries …“

If he didn’t think it would only exacerbate the problem, Rodney would have laughed at Woolsey’s amazing ineptness.  Even without the added instability of sudden unexpected hormonal influences, John had _documented_ problems with authority figures.  And to be told to his teenage face that he wasn’t a threat …

John gave one final look at Woolsey, then directed his attention to Lorne.  “Major, if you would direct the guards to assist Doctor Keller in returning Teyla here to the infirmary. Leave a couple on duty to assuage Mr. Woolsey’s concerns, and make sure that any relief is handled by Marines who’ve been here long enough to be able to handle things that are out of the ordinary.”

To Lorne’s credit, he simply nodded with a “Sir,” in further acknowledgement and without any check Woolsey’s way.  Of course, the rest of them were staring at Woolsey.

“Have you thought through _all_ of the implications of your decision, Colonel?” Woolsey had that pinched look to his face again, his voice dropping in some semblance of privacy, although Rodney could still make it out, so most likely Jennifer and Ronon could too.

“Did _you_?” John countered, not quite so concerned with keeping quiet.  “Or were you really expecting some poor Sergeant or &lt;Corporal&gt; to be your triggerman if the worst happen?”

“She is part of your team, John,” Woolsey tried to sound compassionate.  “I would never ask you to –“

“The fuck you wouldn’t,” John growled back. “What in the hell did you just have me do with _Elizabeth_?” he exploded.  “What did you task me to do with Jennifer if –“

“Wait.  What?” Jennifer obviously still didn’t understand the conversation now going on in front of him.

For once Rodney wished that she’d just been ignored again, but this new young John wasn’t about to spare anybody.

“When you were under the affect of the Wraith seed,” John at least tried to sound sympathetic.  “I wasn’t just sent in to deliver the cure but a bullet if the cure didn’t work.”

Jennifer looked positively green, and Rodney wasn’t sure if he should forgive John for that.  Sure, each of them had chosen to come to Pegasus and Atlantis voluntarily, and now after five years, no one could be naïve about the very real possibility of meeting their death here.  But it was one thing to have a basic understanding of how many different dangers existed, and quite another to be told that not only had you almost died due to an alien infection, but that she’d also come just as close to being killed by a friend even if it had been for the greater good.

On the third hand, it wasn’t any fairer to just assume that John was okay with having had to figuratively _and_ literally pull the trigger on Sumner, Elizabeth (twice) and any number of men and women under his command just because it was necessary, not to mention all the last minute saves that John had been expected to deal with, like Jennifer.  Sure, it sucked having to be one ordering the death/sacrifice, but how much worse was it being the guy actually doing the deed.

Woolsey didn’t look so understanding.  Or maybe he was just embarrassed in having one of the dirty little secrets of command aired so unapologetically.

“There are not going to be any guns or bullets in my infirmary,” Jennifer suddenly spoke up and stepped forward to break the staring contest between the two of them.  “I will allow one guard with one stunner standing outside in the corridor.  And I want one more stunner for me.  _I_ will deal with any situation that might become dangerous.  No one is going to accosting any of my patients – “ with a fixed eye on Woolsey, “or any visitors,” she then turned a baleful gaze on John.  “If you two can’t live with that, then take it to the brig and do your own damn healthcare.”

“Doctor –“

“No,” Jennifer cut off Woolsey and shook her head decisively.  “Those are your choices.  I’m not going to allow my infirmary, my people or my _patients_ to become a battleground.   Colonel,” she redirected her attention back on John, “I would rather keep you here overnight to ease you through what is bound to be a painful night, but I’m not going to insist if you decide to leave.  Just know that you aren’t going to feel or sleep any better in your room, and you won’t have the opportunity to keep your own eye on Teyla if you do decide to hide in your own room.  Needless to say, you are also on restricted duty for the next few days, and I will not be authorizing you for any trips through the gate or in piloting a jumper until your eye has healed.  If you still need to go over things with Major Lorne or your &lt;Captains&gt;, keep it short and get some food and some rest.  Your body has undergone a traumatic change and your electrolytes and &lt;&gt; are completely out of whack, but overall your as healthy as you appear to be.”

John didn’t look any happier to be backed down than Woolsey had, yet Rodney could also see that John was pretty much running on fumes at this point, his anger and indignation taking just as much a toll on his changed body as his injuries or the change itself was.  His eyes shifted to the door and Rodney just knew he was calculating how many steps it would be do his room and just how crappy he felt versus his innate dislike of infirmaries and of appearing weak or vulnerable.  Before he made his decision know, however, the door opened and Lorne came through again, this time with four Marines directing Teyla’s gurney.  No surprise, her vulnerability in lying there unconscious became the deciding factor; John let himself be helped into on the beds while he watched Jennifer fuss over getting Teyla into the bed next to him.

“Ronon,” Jennifer turned to him once she was satisfied with her patient’s immediate status, “I would appreciate it if you would let Kanaan know what has happened.  Have him give me a half an hour to finish getting Teyla and the Colonel settled in, then he can come check on her for a few minutes.  Although I’m going to kick him and anyone else out pretty quickly,” she directed to the now crowded room in general.  “I will also be glad to meet with Kanaan, along with any of the other Athosians to brief them about Teyla’s changes,” she added with an attempt to smile or at least look reassuring.  “Rodney, Mr. Woolsey, give me an hour and we can conduct a real briefing.  Major Lorne, you should probably sit in so we can update you on our findings.  It was a dismissal, conducted with as much panache as Carson had ever shown when doing his own manipulation of the Command Staff, even before she turned away from the rest of them and focused her attention on the equipment and instruments being set up to monitor John and Teyla.  

Rodney had no reason to object, not to mention having hours if not days ahead of him doing his own part to figure things out, keep things progressing as close to normal as possible, and to fix this and anything else that might go wrong in the interim.

Just another day in Pegasus.

**3.**

Even before Doctor Keller had yelled at him, John was well aware that he made a lousy invalid.  He’d had plenty of reasons beyond personal injuries to have an aversion to hospitals or infirmaries, and his tenure in Atlantis hadn’t done anything to change that other than for the worse.  Yet it wasn’t that he was a bad patient.  He didn’t disregard the treatments or advice of his doctors for instance, nor sneak out before he was discharged. 

Sure he might disagree occasionally with what they felt was necessary – they were always more generous with meds and downtime than he needed – but John had never purposely ignored or lied about any pain or symptoms.  Doing so could endanger not only his own well being, but also his team or the mission if he wasn't able to properly perform his job.  Even when he’d ordered Doctor Keller to put him back together long enough to help get Teyla away from Michael, he’d not downplayed his injury.  Then he’d simply not _cared_ that he had a hole in his side and was apparently in some danger of causing permanent damage.  Rescuing Teyla had been the priority, not his comfort or the surgery.

Unfortunately it seemed that at least for the moment that instance had … tainted his relationship with Jennifer Keller.  His indiscreet disclosure about what could have happened when she’d been infected hadn’t helped matters of course, even if she had to have known intellectually what might have been needed; as a doctor she at least understood the concept of triage even if she'd never faced such a decision directly. 

Course, if he wasn't being penalized for that, then her medical hovering and reluctance to let him return to even limited duty had to be because of his current appearance and, frankly, he was getting enough shit about looking like a teenager from Woolsey and his own men to find that not at all amusing or even acceptable.  Especially when coming from someone who not only looked like a teen herself, but was only a few years beyond his current suspected age for real. 

Not being confined to the infirmary should have meant he could be back on light duty and the only reason she'd ordered him to stay away from the gate or the puddle jumpers had been because of his eye injury.  Perhaps it wasn't quite a hundred percent five days after the fact, but it wasn’t like he needed to wear the patch any longer or that he couldn’t still hit the center grouping on the target at the maximum distance on the gun range eight times out of ten -- until she and Woolsey had made the range off limits to him too. 

It wasn't like he was expecting to go on a _mission_.

But, shit, he was dying here out of boredom, and maybe just a little because of stress. 

John knew that he’d caused a lot of the unease and second-guessing by his initial behavior after the transformation.  He'd been out of line certainly with Kaufmann and more or less also with Woolsey, even if he had only said the truth even if Elizabeth's second death had been more his and her idea than Woolsey's.  According to Keller -- who'd actually been even more embarrassed than John while informing him -- his fits of temper could be chocked up to hormones.  As far as his body knew, he really was a teenager just as, for the moment, Teyla really was a Wraith. 

Keller wasn't sure if the transformation had ended before his brain was also regressed to its earlier state (and Teyla had developed a feeding hand and the biological imperative to use it) because of safeguards built into the tech or because Rodney had stopped the interaction before it had been completed.  John wasn't sure if he agreed with Rodney that the tech was some sort of therapy device -- especially since they still hadn't found any reference in the Ancient database -- although that did make about as much sense as anything else they'd come up with.  What John was sure of though, was that he would slug the next person who waxed lyrical about wanting to relive their teens. 

He certainly didn't remember being so … volatile when he'd been this age the first time, of being constantly on the edge of anger _and_ horniness.  He probably had been -- after all this was about the time he'd confirmed he liked being with boys more than he liked being with girls.  But he'd also been too busy then to really dwell on the affects of the final stages of puberty, what with plotting his escape from his father and making sure he had the grades and the connections to do so.  

That's what the biggest difference was this time.  He had nothing to occupy his time with.  Atlantis had no real set up for recreational pursuits beyond the basics that any military base had -- and nothing to really interest a _teenager _\-- at least nothing that wouldn't also involve stealing someone else away from their work.

Not that he _really_ was a teenager, god dammit!  He still remembered his dissertation for his Master's degree in Aeronautics and Astronautics at Stanford; how to fly a Cessna, an F-15, a Pave Hawk; and certainly his first kill -- and his last.  He remembered the softer things too like his sixth grade teacher Mrs. Watson; what it felt like taking Eruzione over his first triple combination; kissing Stacey Fredricks _and_ Bobby Neuman;  _where he was in the universe_ \--

But he might as well be given how everyone was treating him.  It didn't help that so much of John’s job was physical even when he wasn’t leading his team on off world missions. When normally stuck on base, he was either conducting training exercises (or at least taking part in such exercises with the Marines), or conducting flight lessons and flight testing, not to mention still acting as a light switch for Ancient technology down in the labs.  And when he wasn’t doing that, he generally assisted with other physical activities and chores, such as participating in the type of searches that had led to their current dilemma, vetting and prepping new parts of the city and new tracts of land on the mainland, or the other general makework that all of the expedition members took a turn at in turning Atlantis into a home over simply a garrison and temporary outpost.  Even his downtime was as much filled with working out with Teyla or Ronon or giving golf or self defense lessons to anyone interested, as it was playing games with Rodney, watching dvds with his team, or participating in the more general, structured community events that Elizabeth had organized as necessary recreation breaks and that neither Sam or Woolsey had seen fit to disagree with.

Only John was restricted from doing almost all of those things currently, and the few that he could handle, well if they involved most anyone other than those people who knew him best, they either ended up canceled or dissolved into a clusterfuck of embarrassments and flustered apologies – on both sides. Rodney wasn't letting him anywhere near the labs right now out of fear of inducing some sort of weird interaction between the device that had changed him and anything else, while all but the most general aspects of his physical training regime like jogging and calisthenics was out. Teyla was refusing to participate in any form of combat training and Ronon would only go through katas and forms with him, no mock fighting at all. Ronon was also refusing to participate in their other typical physical interaction, and while the adult in John understood and even appreciated that decision, at least it would have been distracting and would help with what was way beyond his typical restlessness when he was recovering from body injuries.   


But other than sending him back to Earth until Rodney figured out how to reverse what had happened to him and Teyla (and wouldn’t that involve a level of explaining the SGC _and_ the IOA didn’t want to deal with), there really wasn’t much for John  to do.  He couldn’t even go hang out with any of their allies during this either; there just wasn’t anyone they trusted quite enough to have them learn of John’s (and Atlantis’) current vulnerability.  Well, no one other than the Athosians, and they were still dealing with their own crises and vulnerabilities after their mistreatment in Michael’s hands. 

Even Teyla had elected to stay in Atlantis while they waited for Rodney, Radek and the others to figure things out, spending most of her time with Kanaan and Torren.  And also, surprisingly, with Woolsey.  Who seemed to be going out of his way to assuage his guilt in his initial handling of the situation by being seen in her company whenever she left hers and Kanaan’s rooms -- and at the same time, doing his best to avoid seeing John.

"So, are you going to keep standing there and brooding or are we going to finish the run?" Ronon broke in on, yes, John'sbrooding_._

John didn't say anything, only pushed away from the railing looking out over the ocean he still wasn't used to, and took off again.  One of the only virtues of his current condition was that he could keep up with Ronon during their daily runs and so he generally took the lead. Running on the one hand, kept him reasonably tired out.  But on the other hand, it wasn't any more of a cure for his restlessness than cold showers were, especially when he stayed behind Ronon instead of out in front.

 Thanks to these runs, John had pretty much worked through the aches and pains he'd garnered from his altercations with Teyla and with Kaufmann.  He still had a ring of fading hand prints around his throat (but had pretty much recovered his voice -- from that), and a couple more spectacular bruises still along his jaw -- another advantage of his current youth; he wasn't needing to shave daily to keep his beard from growing in  since he couldn’t because of the scratches and the swelling.  It also looked like he'd lucked out and was avoiding any acne problems, although maybe it just hadn't been long enough yet.  Not that that had been a real problem for him back then …

"I don't suppose you'll have some time this afternoon to hit balls off the East Pier with me?" John asked Ronon as they slowed their run to a jog as they'd reached their final leg.  So far he'd been very careful about asking Ronon -- or Rodney -- to keep him company; right now both of them were inclined to do so out of concern or misplaced guilt, even if they had their own jobs or tasks to take care of.

"No beer and as long as you aren't going to whine about me being able to hit them farther," Ronon nodded. 

"I don't --"

"You do," Ronon cut him off.  "Even before you became a kid."

John opened his mouth to protest more strongly, _knowing_ that the flash of rage that flushed through him was just wrong but only just able to bite it back.  Ronon was decidedly not treating him any different than he normally did in this, and it would be poor gratitude on his part if he snapped at Ronon for it.  It also didn't do much to support his defense of Teyla being able to overcome much more extreme instincts if he couldn’t control his own.

"Fine, I --"

_Colonel Sheppard, please report to the Control Room_, Chuck's voice interrupted them this time over the radio John had had to fight to be able to still wear.

Good thing huh, Woolsey? he thought uncharitably  "What's going on, Chuck?" he responded out loud as he and Ronon began moving toward the nearest transporter.

_Major Lorne's team has missed their second check-in._

Given that he hadn't heard that Lorne had missed his first one, John was more than ready to ream Woolsey out once they got there, but again he swallowed down his anger and tried to channel the adrenaline rush into something useful like getting there quickly.  With his own off duty status, Lorne really shouldn't have been out on a mission, but this one had involved the Genii and been scheduled a couple of weeks previous -- one of a series of follow-up joint dealings that had started after the fiasco with Mardola and Harmony, and had included his forty-eight thousand year jaunt into the future.  Atlantis' relationship with Ladon Radim's Genii government was too iffy and important to have rescheduled the mission -- or to have someone less experienced than Lorne take lead on.

Which is exactly what Woolsey was putting together -- a rescue team lead by one of the new Majors who had only come to Pegasus in the last month.   Sure she had a team of Marines with her, a couple of whom had been in Atlantis from the very beginning (and John had little doubt that she'd be competent since the SGC got their pick of the US military), but any mission involving the Genii wasn't for someone new, especially not a rescue one.

"What have we got, Major Teldy?" he asked with a snap of his fingers to one of the gate duty Marines to hand over his tac vest and P-90. 

Sweats and tennis shoes weren't exactly standard field gear, but John was more concerned that if he went back to change Teldy's team would head off without him -- or more so that Woolsey would show back up and stop him.  Ronon didn't look to happy to be heading off without his own gun, but he was co-opting his own equipment from a Marine anyway.  Fortunately Teldy didn't look put out having to cede control; maybe he could give her a field team sooner rather than later.

"Mr. Woolsey ordered a MALP sent through when Major Lorne didn't make his second contact.  We've gotten no useful intel from it other than whatever's happened did so well away from the gate.  No response from the Major, his team or the Genii either, Sir."

While Teldy looked up toward Chuck to make sure he'd gotten nothing new to contradict her, John debated on whether they should be making the recon in a jumper.  Ever since the Genii had put out a bounty on ATA pilots, John had restricted their use on any mission the Genii were involved in, even if they had worked out some kind of détente with Radim. But if something had happened to screw with Lorne's team along with the Genii, he'd need more than eight or ten Marines to extract them -- same if the Genii had proven themselves false yet again. 

 Piloting a jumper through the gate on a mission would pretty much be the trifecta of violating Keller and Woolsey's edict, though if he stayed in the jumper and let Ronon shepherd Teldy through the mission, he should at least be able to mitigate the yelling afterward.

"You up for your first puddle jumper ride, Major?"

She looked startled, no doubt having just reread the current mission brief while she'd prepped a team, and then looked pleased.  Marines prided themselves on being the first in, but John knew of few who didn't also appreciate a little air support even if it was normally conducted by the Navy Squids back on Earth.

"Chuck, let Woosley know -- where is he anyway?" John asked the room in general as he took the steps to the jumper bay two at a time.  Okay, maybe being seventeen did have its perks.

"Babysitting Torren, from what I understand," Teldy kept pace with him and Ronon while the rest of the Marines followed them.  "He ordered the MALP and the stand-by team on ready alert after Sergeant Campbell notified him that Lorne missed his check-in, and said he'd get to the Control Room as soon as he could find either of Torren's parents -- not that they're missing, Sir," she added off of John's look.  "From what I understand, Teyla's … husband --"

"Kanaan," Ronon supplied with a grunt as he punched the wall button to close up the jumper's hatch. 

John watched her nod and file that away.

"Kanaan managed to convince Teyla to leave their quarters and take in the sunrise and have breakfast on the West Pier," she finished as she took the co-pilot's seat.

The West Pier wasn't directly connected to a transporter, although their walk would have only been a couple of miles -- a couple of miles through cleared corridors, but still an area only the military patrols usually passed through.  And obviously Teyla or Kanaan had also notified the Ready Room of their intentions in order to forestall anyone being taken off guard by her appearance again.

 "Since he hadn't shown up by the time the MALP came back negative," Teldy was continuing as John got them into the air and dropped them down before the gate -- the puddle jumpers didn't react any differently to him, "I had the Sergeant call you and prepared to get underway."

She wouldn't ask but he could hear the question in her voice, and he had a moment to wonder if it was _his_ reputation she was gun-shy around -- or Woolsey's.

"You made the right call, Major," he gestured for her to punch the gate code into the jumper's DHD.  "And don't worry about whether Mr. Woolsey will agree; I don't imagine _you'll_ be even on his radar once we get back."

"Think he'll send you to your room without supper?" she responded automatically, her eyes then opening wide as she realized what she'd said (and who she'd said it too).  She turned to face him, apology writ large in her expression.

"Don't sweat it, Major," John decided to be more amused than angry; the one thing he didn't want in Atlantis was for any of his military to feel like they couldn't be themselves around him, or to become one of those commanding officers who demanded polish and perfection and mainly ended up with people to afraid to make a decision.  Pegasus -- Atlantis -- had no more place for the rigid and the timid than it did the foolish.

"Mr. Woolsey may act like a disapproving dad, but he's nothing compared to the real deal."  A good thing, given how the gate whooshed to life just as Woolsey made it into the Control Room, and they could all hear the man's angry sputtering as Chuck filled him in before their radios cut out once they were through and the gate shut down.

Come to think of it, John could have lived with a few skipped meals while growing up; being forced to sit through them with all the heavy stares and silent disapproval had been harder to deal with.  Although it had been good practice for his military career…

John had cloaked the jumper automatically.  If anyone was watching the gate, they'd have seen it open, yet seen nothing come through.  The typical Pegasus inhabitant might think that the Wraith were imminent, but Lorne and his team would suspect a jumper and would be looking for a way to signal them if he could.  If they could was the pertinent factor in this instance, which was why John had set the HUD to checking for the subcu transmitters most of the away teams now sported.  If Lorne could signal a jumper, he most likely could have signaled the MALP too, even if he couldn't have reached Atlantis.

The first pass in the immediate area showed nothing.  Just as John was beginning to regret not having Rodney along to keep track of the scans while John handled the flying -- and to think that the best response to another proposed mission from Ladon Radim was a quick display of superior fire power, Teldy gave a squeak and pointed.

"Your five o'clock, Sir."

John nosed the jumper around and down a little further, trying not to act surprised when the display compensated for his still blurry eyesight by magnifying the view.  Like so many planets the Ancient's had seeded with Stargates, this one was a mix of fertile growing areas and thick forests, more like Missouri with its rolling hills and meandering rivers.  Initially he thought the gleam that he was seeing was sunlight over water, but thanks to the closer look being provided for him, he could make out a definite rhythm to the glints, an on and off that had to be more than sunlight and ripples.

"Good eye, Major," he addressed Teldy and then nudged the jumper to start running through radio frequencies with an automated message as he closed on the oddity.  Lorne should have been able to hear Atlantis with the MALP acting as a relay, but there was always the chance that something had happened to their ability to transmit.  The Genii's equipment was enough different that John wasn't really sure if they would have heard their response through the MALP, but they should be able to soon, if they'd found someone from the missing group and they still had the ability to communicate.

"Remind me again why the teams came here?" John asked Teldy.  It had always been planned as a Lorne mission and Woolsey had made a point not to include John in the final briefing.  Normally he would have refamiliarized himself with the goals anyway, but hadn't this time and was now kicking himself for letting the fact that he'd been pissed potential endanger some of his people.

"An offworld cache site for the Genii, one their military used if they got into trouble and didn't want to bring it back to their home world," Teldy recited with her eyes closed as if she was reading it straight off the abbreviated mission brief on hand for the Ready Room team.  "Not so much their alpha site since they don't leave a home guard, but certainly a bolt hole -- complete with unstable explosives.  Apparently the Genii leader, Radon … Rhodan?"

"Radim."

"Apparently he is raiding his own supplies and wanted the help of some of our combat engineers for the extraction."

So the trouble could have come from the explosives being a little more unstable than even they thought -- or the Genii being the unstable ones.  Frankly, with the Genii, it was a fifty-fifty shot as to either; the volatility of their own explosives research was one of the reasons Cowan and Kolya had been so eager to get their hands on the expeditions C-4.

_Can anyone hear me?_ Lorne's voice suddenly came across the jumper's speakers.  When John looked, it was on one of the lower, weaker frequencies, most likely through Genii equipment.  Which didn't give him an indication either way of whether Lorne was under duress or not.

John gestured for Major Teldy to take the lead and respond.

"We can and it's good to hear you voice, Major Lorne.  This is Ann Teldy.  Could I please have the codeword for the day?"

_Kenobi, Major Teldy.  I repeat, Kenobi.  And it's pretty nice hearing your voice too._

They all breathed a little sigh of relief when Lorne answered with the proper code.  Rodney, of course had wanted to use chess moves ala _Star Trek_ when John decided they needed something more than GDOs and IDCs after some of the shit Michael had managed, including cloning Carson Beckett.  Sam Carter had argued that the code needed to be things easily remembered, while John's only contribution had been that it should be name words, not something the internal translation program of the gate system could easily parse.  It had actually been Ronon who suggested fictional characters as a supply that they'd not soon have to repeat.  This week was _Star Wars_, which had followed _Hitchhiker's Guide_ and next week was supposed to be the Rat Pack.

"You just get side-tracked with your sight-seeing, Major, or can we offer some assistance?" John took over.  "Does anyone require medical aid?"

_Assistance, please, no medical, but I don't suppose you've got Doctor McKay with you?_

"Sorry, but we didn't get any request for a physicist.  Is there a problem with your engineers?" John asked only half jokingly.  Rodney was always going on and on about how his people couldn't find their own asses without Rodney's help, but by and large, John's own Marines barely needed _his_ involvement.

_We've got a tech problem, not a structural one,_ came Lorne's response, replete with exasperation and not a little disdain. 

_Apparently the Genii aren't above using what other people leave behind even if they don't have a full -- or good -- understanding of everything._

Not news to John, of course, since Cowan had sent Kolya to Atlantis to try and take it over despite not having anyone who could use the Ancient's technology.  That Lorne was talking about it so freely, however, either meant none of the Genii were nearby, or that things were fucked enough that even they realized they would need Atlantis' help getting out.

_I'm pretty sure the facility isn't Ancient, certainly nothing's reacting to the gene, but it's definitely more advanced than what most folks have managed because of the Wraith.  We've got a form of electronics around us, though I've not spotted any computers.  About a half hour in, something triggered to put us in a lockdown or alert mode.  We can move reasonably freely within the facility, but not out, at least not by any way we've managed to explore in the last four hours.  Also, it's mostly underground and the area has had some seismic activity in the past, so we're not sure the entrance corridor is stable enough for C-4, plus, you know, it's the Genii…_

Like leaving the jumpers behind, these joint missions generally did not involve copious quantities of C-4 being along for the ride so as not to lead any one into temptation.  So far Radim had been satisfied with Atlantis personnel being the keepers of any explosives on their joint missions, even though everyone knew that the Genii leader was dying to have an opportunity to study and reverse engineer the more stable varieties the expedition brought from Earth.  Because the Genii had no real sources of oil or rubber, at least nothing it seemed they were synthesizing, even if they gave them truckloads of the plastique, they wouldn't be able to reproduce it anytime soon.  But there were other things like Gelignite that could be discovered, plus Elizabeth had been concerned not only in how the Genii might use any of the source material, but also all the damage they could do to their own people during their trials.  Elizabeth had been banned sharing C-4 after that first time except in all but the most dire cases when _any_ other Pegasus native was around -- another thing neither Sam or Woolsey had found reason to overturn.

"Is it safe for us to set down nearby and do a little recon before we have to go back for McKay?"  If it was all possible, John would prefer not having to go back for McKay at all, since that would give Woolsey the opportunity to pull John from the jumper and the mission.  More than that (or the thought that they might be able to figure it out from the outside without their resident genius lording over them that they couldn't), John also needed to make sure he wasn't going to endanger Lorne's team any further, or his own. 

Lorne's professional interest in geology had not only made him a more valuable as a military officer and buddies with most of the combat engineers, but had also given him an unnatural interest in earthquakes -- or maybe that had just been from growing up in Marin County.  John's own brief tenure in the Northern California Bay Area at Stanford while he'd gotten his degrees had only given him a healthy fear of earthquakes, while his time in Pegasus had led him to add caves (cave-ins), underground facilities in general (the Genii, the Hoffans, Michael's preferences for his lairs, the SGC under Cheyenne Mountain …) and lock-downs (Atlantis twice plus in some ways the recent jaunt in the alternate Daedalus and not to mention all the various prison cells) to his things to be avoided when possible.

_If there have been recent tremors, we haven't felt any,_ Lorne started and John realized he could check that on his own -- the jumper did have seismic sensors somewhere.

_It was just some of the outer areas that were damaged or impassable.  I still wouldn't recommend setting down right on top of us, but more so because you could end up covering an access hatch or something than from triggering a cave in,_ Lorne continued. _The Genii did have some sort of puzzle box lock on the entrance we used; I've sent Waterman back to get the code from Sora in case it's just a simple matter of opening things back up from the outside._

"Anything bad happen if you don't give it the right answer?" John asked a little sharply, not sure if he was more unsettled about running into that type of lock again, or in hearing that Sora was part of the Genii mix.

_Not that we were informed.  Unless that's why we're now locked in -- that someone messed up the code.  But I'll double check._

Even though Sora had been a prisoner in Atlantis when Kolya had led a squad against them on Dagan, John figured she'd been told about The Brotherhood's own puzzle box and the chemical inducement it produced to keep the uninitiated or authorized away.  Poison wasn't really one of the preferred Genii methods of dissuasion anyway as far as John knew; too many chances of it breaking/escaping containment or of it simply not lasting long enough to be effective.

The jumper was now picking up life-signs as well as the radio signal, and the HUD came up with a basic layout of the underground facility.  It might not be of Ancient construction, but someone reasonably advanced had built it, as much of it was constructed of composite materials that would have been at home on Earth -- a steel-like alloy for rebar, some glass and concrete equivalents that were poured or fused with the natural stone of the area.  John wasn't sure he was picking up the entire facility since the jumper didn't read stone as stone, whether it was worked or not, and didn't differentiate against natural caves and carved hollows.  But he had enough of a layout to be able to place Lorne and the rest of the Lanteans, and to see that they were scatted over roughly a quarter mile's distance.

 He was also reading that several of the hollows led to the surface, a few of them spaced uniformly apart and likely ventilation shafts while the other could be doors. 

"Okay, Major, we've got your location and some potential ways in and out, but we'll try the front door first.  Has Sora --"

_I am here, Maj -- Colonel,_ Sora's voice came next over the radio.

Damn.  John had really hoped she'd just tell Lorne the entry code and not communicate it herself.  She'd done nothing but been friendly to Atlantis since Radim had taken control, but John still couldn't forget she'd been part of Kolya's initial strike force who'd tried to take Atlantis from them, or that she'd done her damndest to kill Teyla during that invasion.

"So, I'm assuming whatever's happened isn't Genii doings?" he asked her neutrally while directing the jumper to find a stable landing place.

_It was not, Colonel,_ Sora answered back.  _We only put our lock on the facility; the rest of it was here before us._

"Any idea who was here first?" he had to ask.

_I have no idea.  We've had control of this stronghold for generations, but this is my first time here.  Information about these types of places was only under the purview of the High Command, and Ladon has only recently found a list of addresses in Cowan's files that was much more extensive than the few that Commander Kolya had possession of._

Oh, that was just great; Sora didn't grant Cowan the respect of his office, but she still did with Kolya.

"Roger that.  We'll set down, take a look around and get back to you." 

John set the jumper down less than a mile from the entrance Lorne had directed him to.  Teldy had put together an oversized rescue team; with his and Ronon's addition there were ten of them.  John recognized and had worked with most of them at one time or another, but a couple were also new arrivals like Teldy, including Kaufmann, who John only now spotted as they prepared to disembark.

"Major," he addressed Teldy, "I'm going to send Miller back to the gate to let Atlantis know we've found them.  Split your team appropriately."

She looked at him for a long second, and then nodded.  John certainly didn't have to explain himself to her -- and he wasn't going to -- but he also didn't want her to be thinking that he'd taken over the mission because he didn't trust her to handle it. 

"Miller, stay by the gate until we determine whether we're going to need McKay or anything else for the extraction.  Keep her cloaked and be on the lookout for any Genii appearances.  I have no idea what their check-in procedures are, but be prepared and let us know if they send in their own reinforcements."

"Roger, Sir," Miller nodded as they switched places.

Two more Marines came forward at Teldy's gesture, but not Kaufmann.  For just a moment John considered overruling her and having the Marine kept back instead, but he kept his mouth shut.  Neither Teldy or Kaufmann deserved that and everyone started out inexperienced and overwhelmed when they first arrived in Pegasus, no matter how much time in they may have had on Earth or at the SGC.

You either learned quickly how to adapt or you got sent back -- sometimes you were even lucky enough to go back on your own two feet.

John let Teldy send out her scouts and took up a position in the middle with her and Ronon.  He wasn't sure if Ronon had stayed quiet the entire time because they weren't with their own team, or if he was somehow pissed off for John having volunteered them to come along.  Maybe he still wasn't thinking all that straight, but dammit he wouldn't have done anything different under normal circumstances either, not when some of his men were with the Genii and overdue.

Sure, he could go back now, maybe should have ordered himself to take Miller's place and play messenger, but if they really had stumble upon some sort of advanced tech that wasn't Ancient, he wasn't ready to trust anyone else's judgment on whether they needed McKay or not -- the standard default of just about everyone on Atlantis was to bring McKay in when encountering any tech, something Rodney bitched about constantly.  John wasn't so much concerned about the bitching, but it wasn't like Rodney didn't have two lifetimes worth of work to do and at the moment, John knew, fixing him and Telya was pretty much everyone's priority.

The path to the entrance was overgrown, but even John could see the signs of recent passage, so he was surprised when Ronon pulled away from his side, moving forward with a haste and deliberation that had John immediately signally the rest of the team to freeze and take up ready alert positions.

"Ronon?" he asked very quietly through his radio.  Ronon would either answer by voice or with a click of the transmitter in return and John wasn't going to bet either way.  He was pretty damn sure it really had been Evan Lorne he'd been talking to over the Genii frequency, but they'd run up against telepathic aliens before -- and up against Genii treachery.  Lorne was a good and as reliable as they came, but anyone could be broken or could be tricked.  Lorne's team could have also been trapped within the bunker by the native inhabitants that there weren't supposed to be any of, and have no idea that there had been an outside agency involved.

_What planet did you say we were on?_ Ronon finally answered, his voice weird enough to keep John's stomach in knots, but it wasn't his typical anger/fear/resolve that it would have been if Ronon thought they were in immediate danger.

John looked to Major Teldy; he had no idea beyond the designation that the expedition had given it -- which meant nothing to Ronon.  "Did the Genii have a name for it?" he asked her.

"Salia or Selia --"

_Saelya,_ Ronon gave it its Pegasus accent, but his voice also now held surprise and maybe even a little pain.

"Ronon?" John repeated, this time letting a little more of his concern bleed through his own tone while signaling for the Marines to resume their course.

_The bunker is Satedan.  Saelya was one of our colonies a few generations back, culled and then abandoned by the survivors before my father's father's childhood.  Maybe the Genii were allies then, or one of the survivors showed them the outpost later, but I'm guessing that part of the history wasn't maintained._

"And the Satedans had their own locks or safeguards?" John put two and two together. 

"Yeah.  We aren't going to be able to get to Lorne through the front door." Ronon told them directly as they broke through the tree line and caught up to him.

To John's eye it looked pretty much like any other bunker entrance he'd seen, but with a little more careful study, he could see faint markings around the door that once might have been more pronounced and were now worn away by the elements, or perhaps it had always been subtle.  It looked more symbol than language to his untrained eye, but he supposed that would only matter to the linguists and the anthropologist.  Ronon knew what they meant.  John just wished he could read Ronon well enough to know whether it was good news or bad news.

"Lorne, can you read us?" John switched to the open military channel.  "We're at your entrance."

Nothing came back and John wasn't all that surprised.  He did wonder how Genii equipment worked when their own didn't but, again, really a concern for the tech heads, not him. 

"Miller," he directed next, knowing the jumper was monitoring all frequencies.  "Let Lorne know we're here, and that were not going to be able to make contact directly.  We're pretty sure we have an idea about how to get to them," and he looked back to Ronon to make sure he wasn't just blowing smoke.  "But it might take --"

Ronon shrugged.  "Hour?"

"But it might take a couple of hours.  Once you've done that and updated Atlantis, chose a position as close to midpoint that you can and still maintain radio contact with all three groups."

_A-firmative, sir._

"Okay, Ronon, what do we have here?"  John signaled Teldy to come back away from the Genii lock since Ronon said he didn't think it was going to work a second time.  No use wasting time or setting off some secondary security system.

"Satedan outposts have intruder systems.  Ten hours after the breach, the non-authorized people will all be stunned for retrieval, then interrogation.  Or death, if it was Wraith who'd found it," Ronon smiled without humor.  "The alert signal going out from the outpost isn't going to reach anyone now as the garrison was abandoned, so we're going to have to enter the counter code to disarm the system.  We don't get it done; they're never going to wake up."

"I don't suppose the counter code can be entered somewhere around here?"

Ronon shook his head at Teldy's question.  "Each retrieval team had a couple of climbing specialists who could fit through a specific security access.  Codes easy, but it has to be punched in three different locations and one of them …" He reevaluated the group of Marines; being a rescue team, most of them were closer to Ronon's size than even John's normal size.  "You or the Major is going to have to do it."

With someone like Teyla on their team, if Ronon had once been chauvinistic, he certainly wasn't any more.  John really wasn't either, not with it being primarily Marines under his command and the SGC really didn't differentiate against support soldiers and combat ones.  Male or female, if you were qualified to be on a field team, you could pull your own weight -- figuratively _and_ literally.  So John didn't really doubt Teldy could get the job done.  But that didn't mean he might not be able to do it easier.

"When you say climbing specialist, what are you talking about?" he asked Ronon, but kept his eyes on the Major.

"First fifty meters of the shaft is going to be angled down from the surface around forty degrees, so anyone not claustrophobic can manage the slide if they're skinny enough," Ronon frowned and closed his eyes to help his recall.  "You'll have to punch the code in the first time at the end of that in a keypad in the wall.  There will be a ten or fifteen meter drop straight down after that, with no walls, to a landing beside another shaft that's also straight down and all free climbing.  The landing edge is sharp enough to cut most ropes -- and hands.  The new shaft should be another seventy or eighty meters and the second keypad is about halfway down.  Once you reach the bottom there's the third keypad and a hatch that weighs about two hundred pounds that will have to be lifted to actually get into the facility."

At John's incredulous look, Ronon grinned wolfishly.  "It's a security system.  And also part of a training course for the soldiers stuck in the outpost.  It's not supposed to be easy."

"Forget free climbing, Major, have you done any free soloing?"

For a moment Teldy bit her bottom lip and then shook her head.  "I'm in the top ten for the forty foot wall at the SGC in speed, but I've never tried it without rope and harness.  And I've only climbed outside for my qualifications and fitreps.  I don't even ski, Sir.  You?"

"I'm no Tom Cruise in _Mission Impossible_, but I've done some fooling around at Yosemite and Mt. Charleston outside of Vegas.  I'd prefer a rope and harness. But …" John looked back to Ronon.  "Do you really thing your construction materials have maintained that edge all this time?"

Ronon shrugged.  "We can set you up with rope to start and get through the first drop, but if you can't handle it without --"

"I can handle it," John cut in with perhaps a little too much heat given Ronon's frown at him.  "But there's no reason not to take precautions if we can.  Rope can be replaced."

Ronon's frown grew deeper, but all he asked was:  "Have we got a couple hundred meters of rope with us?"

"Just a foot one, Kaufmann," John ordered.  "I don't want to get tangled up into something I can get out of quickly if I need to."

There weren't any trees near enough to set the rope up with a belay without having to splice more rope onto the lead, but Teldy directed a couple of the other Marines to a boulder that looked big enough to suffice but still might be moveable.

"Major, set up a perimeter guard; the Satedans may have abandoned the planet and it's unlikely the Genii would have picked one with inhabitants that could find their weapons cache, but we can't count on that," John ordered as he began stripping off his tac vest. He didn't know exactly how tight the going might get; he also didn't need the extra weight. 

"If this outpost sends a signal out to the nearest city, it's always possible something survived to receive it, and that someone is nearby to hear it.  Also, go ahead and send Miller back to get someone else out here in case I fail.  It's already been six hours, so we better have back-up on station as quickly as possible.  Get Laura Cadman here too, and Captain Vega in case we are going to have to blow an entrance."

"An explosion at the entrance will set off the stun field," Ronon warned.

"Any way around that?" John decided to skin off his sweat pants too; he was wearing shorts underneath and at the moment, the pants were enough oversized that he was concerned they might end up somehow getting in the way even if it did mean he'd have to deal with more friction burns on the first part.  At least he'd borrowed PT gear from Lorne instead of one of the Marines to deal with his new size and so they were Air Force blue instead of Marine green. 

His wearing his _Nikes_ instead of combat boots was an even better break; with them he'd be able to get a better feel of his foot holds since he wasn't really going to be able to see anything climbing down.  Frankly, his past experience in this type of thing had primarily been climbing _up_, then just belaying down or even just as a passenger in the off-road jeep Dex and Holland used to take to the top when John, Gerrolds and Mitch use to climb.

"You know where the security shaft should be, right?" John realized he should have Ronon that before they'd started prepping for the climb, but he also figured Ronon wouldn't have given them all of the details of what would be needed if he didn't know -- or if it was too far away.

"I and some of the Marines might hold out against it for a brief time, but I don't know if it would be long enough to get people out.  We'd better make sure they're all near this front entrance just in case.  There'll be another hidden, larger entrance too.  Once the third code sequence is pressed in, the new entrance should open for the rest of the team to charge through in case the invaders are waiting at the front and ready to take the retrieval team out." 

Thank God the Satedans were anal enough to build all of the outposts with a similar floorplan, and that they trained their military damn well, even in traditions and procedures that might be a hundred years or more old.  John had to wonder just how many 'colonies' the Satedans had once sponsored, and whether there would be more outposts like this, that might still have tech intact.  For a moment he wondered why Ronon hadn't ever mentioned them before, but then figured if any of them were still inhabited, Ronon would have left for them back when he was so diligently searching for Satedan survivors.  No doubt these places had been abandoned and anything useful had been stripped or reclaimed for their own fight against the Wraith.

They found the hatchway for the security shaft quickly while Ronon went over the sequence John would need to punch in.  Telda and Kaufmann came with them while the other three Marines took positions in the overgrowth to keep an eye on the front and on the rescue.  Without a doubt the hatch was another of those two hundred pounders that Ronon had mentioned, but John just signaled for Ronon and Kaufmann to take care of it.  The one at the end of his climb would be strain enough after a fifty meter slide and a seventy meter climb that he didn't want to start the whole thing already overtaxed.

"Since our radios don't seem to be working here, and I'm not sure how to carry mine anyway, Major, if you're secondary entrance doesn't open up in ..." Speed climbers average five meters per minute or better climbing up, but John wouldn't be going for any records and he wasn't twenty-five any more -- well, actually, in some ways he was a lot closer to twenty-five than forty -- still he'd be climbing down blind, and couldn't make any mistakes. 

"Give me an hour.  That will still give a second person time to free Lorne before any decision has to be made about chancing explosives," he informed them.  "Ronon is there anything else I need to know before I start?  What kind of hand and footholds am I going to find?  I'm assuming it's not going to be rungs or anything evenly spaced along the walls?"

Ronon shook his head.  "The straight shaft will mostly be natural stone inset with reinforcements to support the landing and the slant shaft.  They'll have carved out some kind of path, but after so many years unmaintained, water run off will have softened some areas and undermined others."

"Maybe we should just wait for the experts, Colonel?" Teldy offered cautiously. 

"We're assuming Ronon's time frame in standard in all Satedan outposts, and that disuse or interference hasn't altered anything.  In fact, when Miller gets back on station, make sure he keeps up a regular dialog with Lorne or someone else within, so we know that they're still alright.  And make sure Lorne's filled in on what's going on.  He's not the type to panic if the stun field hits early, but I want to make sure he doesn't try anything drastic from not knowing whether he's going to wake up again or not."

Teldy didn't look happy, but she didn't offer any more obstacles either, actually going so far as to reach into her tac vest and pull out a pair of half finger gloves and handed them over.  They were shooting gloves, not climbing ones, so a little more snug even not accounting for them being a woman's fit, but they had a Velcro tab at the wrist that John could make work for him and were definitely better than any that one of the other Marines might have offered.  Definitely better than trying this bare-handed too.

"Okay, I'll want you to feed me the slack slowly.  Two tugs means give me a little more and three times will mean I need you to take it up and just hold me steady.  If I tug four times, haul me the hell back up.  Shit," he just had a thought.  "It's going to be dark, right?" he turned a look on Ronon.  "No reason to light a ventilation shaft, assuming they've got power inside anyway.  So I'm not going to be able to see the wall to climb?"

John normally carried a couple of flashlights in addition to the one on the P-90s, both a good sized one that could substitute as a weapon in emergencies, plus he'd started to carry one of the mini-lights to have on hand when McKay needed to do close-up work in the bowls of his laptop or some other technological access panel.  He'd have to go with the tac vest despite the closeness to try and rig something up, but even then he wasn't going to be able to direct any light downward unless it was attached to his head.

"I've got a couple of Krill lights in addition to chem lights, Sir," Kaufmann offered up, going into his own tac vest instead of the pack and bringing out two.  "Minis, that have a range of twenty or so meters.  If you put one on the landing edge and drop the other to the bottom, you should have coverage except maybe right in the middle.  Not perfect but --"

"But better than making the entire climb really blind.  Thanks," John took them and slid the one by three inch cylinders into the id pocket of his shorts. 

Like John, Kaufmann was still sporting some bruises from their altercation, but you couldn't tell by the way the Marine moved or in his interactions.  John hoped that meant he _wasn't_ sporting any grudges, just as John was doing his best not to do the same; Teyla was really not much the worse for Kaufmann's attack, and had it happened to anyone other than one of his _team_, John knew he wouldn't be blaming the kid for what was really a natural reaction.  The only thing Kaufmann had been talked to about (by Lorne in this instance), was him not hearing the orders to stand down.  Whether that had been from excitement, panic or simple intensity to task didn't matter as much as Kaufmann having actually tuned out an order yelled both over the radio and in his proximity.  The whys would have to be figured out too, of course, since if it had been panic or a thrill to be hunting an enemy Kaufmann wouldn't fit Atlantis, but at the moment it wasn't something to hang or kick the kid out for.

"Let's do this, then," John knelt down and then swung his legs down so that he was sitting on the edge of the opening.  For this first part he elected to go feet first too. "Here's hoping none of the cave ins happened around here."  He turned onto his stomach although he wasn't certain there would be anything he could use to stop his slide other than sheer determination, given how their first look showed a smooth metal shaft about forty inches in circumference.  He was also pretty sure he'd be better off keeping his arms above his head, but that would mean he really wasn't going to have much control.

"You remember the code?" Ronon asked gruffly, knowing that John did, but also obviously unwilling to just let him go.

John looked up to meet Ronon's worried glance, and gave a smile to all three who were watching.  He then checked the rope to make sure it hadn't twisted when he did, before wrapping it a couple of times around his left hand.  He wasn't expecting to need it for the first part, but it would aid in slowing his slide.  "See you on the flip side, gang."

The angle of the shaft and the material it was made out of  combined to speed him through the first section, and made him glad he'd intended to work out after his run with Ronon so that he was wearing a cup. The diameter was wide enough for him to roll or flip, but he did bang elbows and knees a few times before he got the hang of this awkward belay and only just managed not to bite his tongue during one hard jolt that had to have given him a few new bruises along his jaw.  It was probably a good thing he'd needed to leave his radio behind, since the words he was soon using weren't ones he was comfortable with the Marines hearing coming from their CO.

When the light from the open hatch cut off about half way down, John was plunged into a darkness that was even more unnerving than the recklessness of his slide.  By the time he recognized his knees were swinging free of the confinement, he was almost too disoriented to give the rope the requisite three tugs, but he managed, and they managed and although he was now swinging completely free of the shaft, he didn't go splat from the ten meter drop.  Of course, he wasn't sure how much of the 33 foot drop he still had below him but he'd fallen at least ten feet he was pretty sure, and was almost seven feet tall hanging from his left hand, so that should leave him less than fifteen feet to drop.

He kicked free from the rope loop and lowered himself a couple more feet hand over hand, and considered simply letting go.  But if Ronon was wrong about the landing's size or position, or if the landing had sustained damage, he could be falling to injury or his death simply because he was impatient.  Instead he clutched the rope again with his left hand and reached to unzip and pull out one of the Krill lights.  Working it with tingling fingers to turn on the electroluminescent green light, he held it out and looked down, seeing that the landing was indeed there, big enough for him land without any danger of going over the edge, and only about five feet away.

He let go and dropped, landing easily. 

Almost immediately, the rope came dropping down beside him, Kaufmann or Ronon realizing he wasn't a dead weight on it any more and obviously hoping for the best.  Because John wasn't as stupid as Rodney so often claimed, he picked up the loop and gave a quick couple of tugs, to let them know he was okay and to get enough slack to test the landing's edge.  He wasn't sure why he'd been expecting this next part to also be a three and a half or four foot cube since Ronon hadn't so mentioned, but he had and it definitely wasn't as he looked over the side -- at least not up here at the top.  Which meant that he wasn't going to be able to cheat and use his back and legs to brace himself if he needed to stop along the way.  This part of the shaft was at least six feet wide, not round but also not square enough to give him ninety degree corners to wedge into either.

The edge was actually a strip of metal bolted into the landing, corroded in some spots, but not that damaged and still sharp enough that the rope parted like butter when he swung the loop against it.  Because of that, he wasn't exactly sure how he was going to climb from it without slicing glove and hand open. 

First things first, though.  He pulled out the second Krill light and set it to working, then dropped it over.  From what little he remembered, they were only rated for a fifty foot drop onto concrete; he was hoping the bottom would have enough collected silt and debris to cushion the landing.  The trouble was that the drop would be nearer to two hundred or two hundred and fifty feet, which meant he wouldn’t know if it had broken until he was a lot closer to the bottom.  And if he went with their initial plan, he'd be climbing at least a hundred feet in complete darkness.

He looked again at the Krill light he'd kept; while he flew for the big Air Force, he'd used only the typical chem lights, the same ones the SGC had supplied for the Atlantis expedition.  A few light holders had been shipped along too, but most of them were bulky and not really that useable in their standard field situations, since the times they were normally used or needed were most often during emergencies.  The Krill light had its own built in 'holder', twin caps on either end, with one having a hole in the plastic that could be used to string the light on something like dog tags.  Still not an ideal situation since that would put the light as much in his eyes as it would give him the visibility to see where his next hand hold was but, again, _needs must_.

After fixing that up, John looked again at the wall to figure out how to get down from the landing, then could have kicked himself when the solution was obvious.  He needed only climb up for a distance from the landing, up and over and then down.  And there was no time like the present.

Fifty feet into the climb, John knew he was going to be wasted by the time he finished, his new health and youth notwithstanding.  Neither he nor Ronon had given any thought to the fact that he'd been seven miles into a ten mile run before adding himself to the mission, that he was already pleasantly tired and not properly hydrated.  The shaft was cold enough that he wasn't yet sweating badly in just his t-shirt and shorts, but he would be soon enough. 

Another reason he'd have to be successful; he wasn't going to be able to drink anything until he met up with Lorne's group.

A hundred feet down and his arms and legs were both trembling.  He'd had several near slips when a foot or hand hold failed, had nearly lost one shoe, had lost a couple of fingernails, and had torn a gash in his palm anyway from a variety of sharp edges.  Those sharp edges had torn through shirt and skin in more than a couple of places too, but other than stinging more from his sweat than the abrasions themselves, they weren't doing anything other than adding to his irritation and discomfort. 

His real problem was with his eyesight.  Not only was the light against his chest throwing much of the shaft into deep shadow beyond it's radius and fucking with any bit of night vision he might have needed, but his damaged one wasn't holding up to the strain very well.  Its tearing was not only blurring his vision, but affecting his depth perception and, therefore, his judgment on a few of those handholds. 

He was also taking longer than he'd hoped, yet not so much that he was behind schedule, he was pretty sure. 

At a hundred feet was also where he found the second key pad -- on the wall opposite, of course. Once he navigated the extra twelve or so feet, he found that here at least was a ring inset into the stone, giving him something to grasp and hold onto while he started to punch in the eight digit code.  Only the ring shifted when he reached for it, leaving him leery of trusting its hold. 

"Mother_fuck_," he couldn't help swearing.  There was another natural handhold, more or less in range, but it was on the opposite side of the ring, and would require him to hold his body weight with his left hand if he also didn't find a foot hold or two.  Every hit he'd taken from Teyla's attack and the altercation with Kaufmann was making itself felt again, five days enough time to not wake up stiff in the morning any more, but not enough to have healed the couple of shots that had been deep muscle bruises, one along his rib cage, and one to his left shoulder.

Keller was going to fucking kill him when he got back.

 He switched his hand hold, stretching over the keypad to make sure _it_ would hold up before he moved either of his feet and ignoring the flare of pain that radiated up his arm from his shoulder.  The two inches of height he lost was costing him now, although being forty pounds lighter had offset some of that so maybe he wasn't quite as fatigued as he could have been.

This grip was good, and he found one for his right foot, although not for his left.  He punched the code quickly, amused that it turned out to be the largest right truncatable prime, though he wondered if that was why it had been picked -- wondered if Sateda even used base ten as their counting system though Ronon had never shown any difficulty in adapting the expedition's usage of the metric system.  Whatever the reason for 73939133 being the Satedan code, it was easy to remember and easy to key in, being all corner keys and John was pretty sure it only felt like he'd dislocated his shoulder by the time he'd finished and not done so for real.

At one hundred and fifty feet, John was done.  His body was screaming at him now, his tremors full fledged shakes, and both his arms and his legs were cramping intermittently.  Stubborn will and his fear for the others were all that was holding him up, along with his ego.  If he failed, he'd be proving Woolsey and Keller right -- that he wasn't fit for duty, that he was a liability to his command.  Woolsey, Keller, Sumner, his CO in Afghanistan, his _dad_ …

Repeating the litany of names of those who deemed him a failure or worthless over and over each time he moved lower got him another twenty or so feet, and reciting the names of those he _would_ fail if he let go got him down the next thirty.  A faint glow of light coming from below him kept him moving.

Unbelievably, he made it, although he lost his grip around two hundred and twenty feet and fell almost fifteen to land in a heap on the bottom.  He was right about a layer of silt, most likely the only thing that had kept him from breaking something as he had no energy left to try and manage his fall.  Finding the release bolt on the hatch and even digging down far enough to grasp its wheel was going to take some effort and, therefore, something to do after a few minutes rest; when his body didn't feel like any part of it other than his thundering heart and blinding headache belonged to him.

Somehow he managed to pull himself up to the final keypad and punch in the numbers, scared for a moment when he knew he'd gotten a couple of them wrong and realizing he'd never asked Ronon what would happen if he did.  He made himself slow down and press the numbers correctly a second time, giving up to hope -- to despair -- because this time he really was done and the only thing he could do when he collapsed this time was roll himself into a tight ball of agony and hope he was far enough into a corner that if someone somehow did manage to open up the hatch from the inside, he wasn't laying over or behind it to be crushed.

John's last thought before unconsciousness claimed him was that Woolsey was going to ground him in every sense of the word after this.  He never heard the sound of the release bolt retracting underneath four feet of dirt when the locks disengaged.

**4.**

Teyla had not managed to talk herself into waiting near the Control Room when word reached her that John and Ronon had left to join the rescue mission for Major Lorne.  Richard Woolsey would have given her shelter in his office, and she knew that Chuck and Amelia at least would have managed to contain their expressions of fear and distrust, that perhaps even the officer of the day and whatever scientist Rodney might have assigned some duty there wouldn't hide their faces and refuse to meet her strange and yellowed eyes.  She could not stay with Kanaan and Torren either, though, and found her footsteps taking her into the small lab that Rodney had commandeered while he combed through the Atlantis database to find the information so far his people had not to explain why she had been altered into this abomination, why John had been regressed to his younger years.

The look in Rodney's eyes when he raised his head to see who had dared to interrupt him contained no distrust, and the only fear she read in him was the same that she carried, over their missing two.  Along with the same flash anger as she felt for not being taken along.  While her mind knew that she would have only disrupted the mission; that she could have too easily destroyed the fragile alliance the Lanteans had developed with the Genii just by her appearance, such knowledge gave her little solace.  As she suspected Rodney's own awareness that his most important duty to the team right now was finding a way to fix them. 

Her heart was telling her that she had failed them once more.

"Have you heard anything more?"

Dropping her eyes for a moment from the rawness of Rodney's gaze, Teyla saw that his radio was lying beside his monitor instead of being worn.  She wondered for a moment if he had removed it out of frustration over interruptions or out of fear from what he might overhear.

"Most of an hour ago, Sergeant Miller had reported in that they have found an alternate way into the facility that John is confident will free Major Lorne and the others.  A secondary team then left Atlantis to provide back-up and the means for a second and third attempt should the first prove unsuccessful."

She saw the moment of rage and hurt when Rodney realized he had been left behind for a second time, and then watched when his face softened into understanding and sympathy when her own mirrored that and her great shame from being the cause that the both of them were still here instead of supporting John and Ronon.

"Hey, no, none of that," Rodney stuttered and came away from his counter full of monitors and programs.  "None of this is your fault or mine, and probably not even John's," he spoke and reached out to reassure her.  "Well, that fact that he is out there and maybe needing our help is most definitely his fault, since the man has never met an order or even a suggestion of common sense that he felt compelled to listen to.  But he's got Ronon to watch his back, and a whole puddle jumper full of Marines to get between him and anything else -- you don't honestly think that any of them are going to let a seventeen year old kid take the lead and do something reckless?  Sure a few of the even more idiotic than most grunts are all freaked out over having to take orders from some pimply-faced kid -- only, have you noticed that he doesn't have any pimples?  I _still_ get pimples when I get stressed, and while I was never pizza or ziti face when I was a teen, I still got my fair share and always at the most inopportune time.  I'm sure that's why Macy Evens reneged on going with me to the Prom, because I had an unfortunate outbreak that was probably not even pimples but a case of the hives from someone trying to poison me during lunch the day before …"

As he often did, Rodney ran out of words when his brain finally caught up to what he was saying, when he realized that he was no longer speaking to the matter that he had begun and was embarrassed by the swift and mercurial nature of his thoughts.  Teyla, however, found her heart lifting, not at Rodney's discomfort but from the sheer wonder of knowing someone who was so full of facts and memories, of ideas and dreams that even his brain could not contained them and keep them from spilling out.  Rodney McKay left her feeling slow and breathless, but also so often exhilarated and, yes, hopeful, when she was in his presence.  He saw the world as no other she had known.  He _reshaped_ the world as no other she had even imagined.

"I would go with you to a … Prom even were your face as pockmarked as Acastus Kolya's, Rodney."  She knew her sudden giddiness was mainly nerves, but there was also real relief in her; Rodney's presence and nonsense soothing and filling a portion of the hole she felt within her from the others' absence.  "That is assuming you would be willing to be seen with me looking as I do."

Rodney's face softened again into an expression of not just of understanding, but also real comfort because of the decided _lack_ of sympathy now therein, and the bare hint of scorn.  "While you are the shortest Wraith Queen I've ever seen, you are most definitely the prettiest.  Plus Macy not only had Kolya worthy zits, but she also wore braces -- ah, those are tracks of metal some people put on their kid's teeth to straighten them out," he started to explain. 

"Not just out of vanity," he continued from what she knew was a horrified look on her own, "but because twisted teeth can lead to cavities and bridges or dentures -- _false_ teeth -- and even other types of health risks later on.  You know, that's the one thing I don't remember seeming very much here in Pegasus.  Sure, ninety percent of the people we met could certainly do to be introduced to toothpaste and mouthwash, but I don't remember seeing that many people missing teeth like you would expect from primitive or backwards societies.  I wonder, when the Ancients terraformed and seeded their planets, did they just dump massive amounts of fluoride in all of the water sources?  Or maybe did a little bit of genetic tampering, since it's obvious that genetics do play as much a part in good or bad teeth as does dental hygiene.  Maybe they saw the Wraith's teeth and thought, whoa …"

He trailed off again, the flush of his skin now paired with a grin that said he was laughing at himself but for the same reasons she was smiling at him.  Rodney's babbling digressions were as much a comfort as Ronon's gruff and sparse speaking, as John's deflections and easy smiles.  All were deflections from the men underneath the surface, and all had given Teyla more than a glimpse of what stayed hidden from most everyone else. 

Teyla loved Kanaan and had been overwhelmed with joy when she had conceived his child.  Kanaan represented home and comfort, all the best things of her childhood and everything she had ever wished for in her secret heart when she imagined her future.  In her adult heart, she knew she loved John, Ronon and Rodney just that little more, that Atlantis was truly her home now and that Kanaan was the tie she had felt needed to remind her of where she had come from and what she still could have been -- felt needed but not as much _wanted_ as was her place with her team and in being a part of new dreams and a wondrous potential future that none of her people could have ever hoped to believe in before the Lanteans came to Pegasus and Athos.

She let herself be pulled back to Rodney's work station and turned her strange eyes onto stranger pages of text and images.  The language of the Ancestors was not one she had known beyond a few words and symbols, but she had begun to learn it as she had the Lantean's writings, and while she could not read for long before the symbols swam in her eyes and became only colors melting in sunlight, a second set of eyes no matter how brief, no matter how _wrong_, might find something the first had missed. 

They survived another fifteen minutes of waiting in companionable silence, Teyla's awareness of the rich beacon of Rodney's life  never disappearing, never even fading from her concentration on other matters.  In the first days -- in the first moments of her change, John's lifeforce had overwhelmed her, filling her nose and her mouth, filling her entire being with want and need and _must have_.  Guilt and shame had muted her needs, his pain and fear thrusting her back into her true sense of self that had nothing to do with her body. 

Now those faint or furious glows that represented the people around her were still overwhelming, still thrummed need and want and must have within her, but not in the manner of consuming and taken within herself.  Instead she felt a fierce protectiveness over those fragile lights, felt for _every_ human she encountered the same passionate pleasure and fear she had experienced when she first had held Torren.   And for a special few, she could -- _would_ \-- do anything she had to, to make sure they were never extinguished.

_Rodney, we've found it!_ Radek Zelenka's voice interrupted their quiet.

For a moment she just stared at Rodney in shock; she had never lost faith that the information would be found by these new children of the Ancestors, only despaired that the information could be found in time before the change was irreversible, or she or someone else did something that would force her to be sent away.  Rodney's own surprise was jarring, his joy then as incandescent as hers and they were both filled with a fierce pride at his team's accomplishments.

"It's about damn time, Radek," was Rodney's chosen response after he fumbled and put his radio back on, another mask to hide his relief and delight.  "Where --"

_Yes, yes, you were right.  Is described in medical files, not defense or entertainment.  Is room, however, and not machine that we have found, which is why it took so long.  Rooms actually, as both are used together and --_

_Medical team to the jumper bay,_ they were interrupted once more, and this time their exultations were extinguished in a breath and a flash of shared panic.  It didn't matter that Lorne's team was the ones overdue, that it was much more likely one of them were injured and requiring medical assistance and not John and Ronon. 

"Radek, download what you need and meet me in the infirmary," Rodney ordered and started closing his computers without turning anything off. 

Teyla did the same with her loaned computer and the two others closest, reaching out then to place her hand on Rodney's arm and stop him for just a moment.

"All will be well, Rodney," she offered and tried to believe it for herself.  'They are home.  You and Jennifer will be able to fix whatever is needed."

She was heartened to see it was Rodney more than Doctor McKay that nodded back, that he felt no need to wear his mask in front of her, especially in this time where she felt so bared.  Rodney's faith in Jennifer's medical skills might not be as strong as his confidence in Carson Beckett's, but when Rodney grew to love someone, he gave himself fully, gave his heart and his faith, his trust that they would not let him down.  Such was the cause of the many of the frictions in his relationships, the pessimistic nature of his grown self warring with his childlike want to believe. 

Carson, John, poor, sweet Elizabeth had seen this first, Radek and few of the others including Teyla herself only coming to understand this about him after being shown the way.   Teyla feared that Jennifer did not yet understand, seeing and, yes, accepting the man full of bluster and arrogance but also hoping that for her he would change instead of realizing that he did not need to.  Katie Brown had never looked deep enough to find the real Rodney, but then she had also never reached deep enough to understand that Atlantis had become Rodney's true home instead of the planet of their birth. Teyla did find herself missing the kind soul that Katie had been, but she did not miss the person Rodney had tried to become for her when the falseness could not hold.

Of Jennifer … even Teyla had not understood Rodney first off, had not realized the hope that Atlantis represented.

Fortunately, Teyla had no doubts about Jennifer's abilities even if she missed Carson's gentle calm with his patients.  Even the recalcitrant ones like John Sheppard.  Who was indeed the object of the call for assistance, although by the time she and Rodney also reached the jumper bay, John was refusing to be helped onto the gurney that had been brought.

Ronon looked concerned, but not deeply worried, and Teyla found herself releasing and regaining her breath in a slow measure of welcome relief and gaining calm.  The Marines looked uneasy, and more than one gun was leveled her direction at her entrance, but they were then lowered even before Ronon growled and John glared at them, before Rodney finished stepping in front of her to protect her from their unhidden shock and dismay over her appearance. 

Even Evan Lorne looked well as did his team, if also a bit tired and frustrated, although whether the frustration was for the outcome of their mission or over John's state and attitude, she was not sure.  John certainly did look the worst, his shirt and body covered in dirt, sweat and not a few scratches, blood and new bruises. 

Teyla could see that he was trembling badly, from exhaustion or exertion -- no, most likely both as he stood leaning against Ronon while eyeing the medics and the gurney with great displeasure.  When he moved to avoid the reaching arms, he favored both his left arm (shoulder?) and his right knee which looked swollen as well as gashed, then yelped in shock and a flash of embarrassment threaded with anger when Ronon simply picked him up with even less effort than normal when faced with their stubborn or badly injured friend, and dropped him onto the gurney. 

John's surprise gave the medics their opportunity to ease him back to lie upon it, although Doctor Cole relented enough to have them raise the back so John was more sitting than laying flat.  A quick check of his pulse and blood pressure had her reaching for and installing an IV, the push then of an oral thermometer into his mouth silencing any protests -- a trick she'd learned from Carson that Jennifer either had not yet discovered, or had not had the confidence to try.  Any protest he might have offered when she finally removed the instrument was silenced -- quite uncharacteristically -- by Richard Woolsey's arrival.

"Major Teldy, report," Richard requested from thin lips and a pinched throat and expression. 

That he was angry was a given, was even understandable, although by now Teyla felt Richard should have come to know John well enough to not take John's rebellion so personally.  The two of them had been making real strides in learning to mesh with one another up until Elizabeth had returned, those sudden fractures then widened by John's injudicious blaming of Richard for what had happened after, when again all who really _knew_ John also knew he was truly only blaming himself for losing her once again.  John had _hurt_ Richard (Jennifer too), and _he didn't care_ which was most unlike the John Sheppard that Teyla had grown to know and love.

She had never been surprised to learn that despite the easy going manner that was his casual and consistent mask, John's anger was often only just below the surface.  It was enough that it was rare when he actually blamed others for matters beyond control.  He certainly did not do so as often as Rodney did in an attempt to escape his own guilt and fear.  Yet John also held onto his anger more deeply than Rodney did, whether it was directed at himself or at another, and that was more self destructive in her mind than his willingness to take those mission that Rodney called suicidal. 

Teyla feared his current regression was only intensifying the anger and self destruction, knew from five years of being as close to him as she had been her father, to Charin or Halling, that he had his own sin of pride on a par with Rodney's.  And, like Rodney, John was quite often right despite his arrogance -- or at least right enough in his strategies that few questioned his commands or his insistences any longer.  The adult John Sheppard was actually as good as he thought he was most of the time, was brilliant in coming up with plans that it seemed only his confidence and belief could make work. 

Unfortunately this young John, while still retaining the same experiences and gift for tactics as his adult self, had lost much of the assuredness while retaining the pride.  He was as much a creature of emotions now as Teyla had been turned into herself, only without the self confidence that still manifested as wisdom for her to be use against her new emotions and instincts.  This new John Sheppard had no more value of self-worth than the teenaged Jinto or Wex did -- as Rodney did -- and realized so only enough to resent the need that had him actively seeking validation from the adults around him, including Richard Woolsey.

From Ronon, Teyla knew that much of John's sense of worthlessness -- and his need to rebel -- could be laid at his father's feet.  From the lack of anything ever being said (and a few long talks with Kate), Teyla suspected some of it stemmed also from his mother -- or more precisely because of the loss of his mother at a young age for him.  She certainly understood how deeply such a loss could affect someone and could only count herself fortunate that she'd had Charin to comfort and guide her after she'd lost her father.  Discovering John's father did not or could not do the same for John had bothered her badly, had her aching for John and agreeing with Ronon that the only regret that such a man had died was because John's only memories of Patrick Sheppard would be of being a disappointment instead of a father who might have one day realized what he had done and tried to make amends.

Teylaa's contemplation of John was jolted suddenly when Rodney brushed her arm and then put his hand against her back to guide her out of the jumper bay.  John was being taken the infirmary, the veritable army of Marines following to undergo their own post mission checks.  Neither Richard nor the female Major was talking any longer; Richard looking reasonably satisfied and the Major looking relieved  Ronon was not walking along side the gurney, although Teyla could see the effort his was making in staying, and she let Rodney shepherd them so that they would not be long from John's side.

Radek Zelenka was coming in as they were moving out, and Ronon looked from one scientist to the other when Rodney snapped his fingers to demand the laptop Radek had brought with him.  When Ronon looked her way, she had a smile ready for him, a nod.

"They have found a reference to the room that transformed us.  I am sure by the time John is released, Rodney and Radek will be ready to restore us to our normal state."

He grinned, with a wistful look back toward John and clapped Rodney and Radek on the shoulder, not quite hard enough that the computer spilled from Rodney's hands, though by his grimace it was only because of his paranoia and reflexes.  Rodney's snarl made Ronon's grin broaden, deepened Teyla's too.

To accommodate Rodney's need to begin to review the information that Radek had brought him, their journey to the infirmary was slow; they reached the infirmary late enough that they needed to wind their way through the parade of Marines who had completed their medicals and were not escaping, anxious to enjoy the rest of their day's off-duty status.  Rodney was relying on her and Ronon to steer him true and he did not even raise his head from his reading until Doctor Cole voiced called out. 

"Doctor Keller is just finishing with the Colonel," she let them know as she finished with Evan.  She gestured with her chin toward one of the beds in the back that was blocked by a privacy curtain.

Evan slid off his own bed and joined them as they headed inward, the female Major also having waited for news and took up a position behind Ronon.  Before Rodney could be distracted again by the data, Jennifer pushed the curtain aside, showing no surprise to be greeted by the five of them. 

"As you can see for yourself, he's going to be fine," she waived a hand.

Teyla rather thought Jennifer's definition of fine was rather … liberal, though John looked rather peaceful were he was curled up asleep.  The abrasions and dirt he had gained during the mission had been cleaned up, and now Teyla could see that there were fewer than she had been concerned for, only a couple of them requiring bandaging in addition to the cleaning. 

"The Colonel has wrenched a knee and a shoulder and, quite frankly, will feel like he … well, like had to climb down a two hundred and fifty foot cliffside using only his hands and feet.  I've pumped him full of muscle relaxants and pain killers, and gave him a light sedative so that he'll stay still long enough to get though another IV full of electrolytes to deal with some dehydration."

"Why is he doing his Xander impersonation again?" Rodney asked, scowling then when Jennifer looked at him as confused as Teyla thought her own expression showed.  "The eye patch?" he gestured toward John's face.

"He admitted that both of them were bothering him and the left one was blurry," Jennifer frowned, then made an obvious effort to look cheerful.  "It's probably nothing, simply a reaction to the strain he's just undergone.  But since he's already proven unable to follow suggestions on his own behalf," she shrugged, "I figured it would be another way to remind him he isn't as invincible as he thinks."

"He need to stay here overnight?" Ronon asked

Jennifer shook her head.  "Actually, he's asleep on his own. The sedative I gave him wasn't strong enough to put him out.  Come back in, say… another hour and the three of you can take him off somewhere to get something to eat," she promised. 

Evan and the new Major took this as a dismissal, although Evan did exchange a glance with Teyla before he stepped away.  With the Colonel again indisposed, Evan would not be one of the ones getting the rest of the day off, and Teyla had little doubt that he was even now going off to give Richard the latest update and to more properly give him the details of what had happened with the Genii.

"After dinner," Jennifer drew their attention back, "I really, really need at least one of you to promise that you'll sit on him or do whatever you need to, to keep him from doing anything more strenuous than sitting and maybe talking or watching a video until he falls asleep for the night.  If I thought he'd not be waking up every time someone made their rounds in here tonight unless I gave him a stronger sedative, I would keep him here for at least one night."  She smiled, suddenly sheepish.

"After he forced me to make him able to rescue Teyla from Michael, I .. uh… might have put something about him needing quick sedation in his file and … ah, Doctor Baker took me at my word after that nasty bit with the Wraith seed, sedating him while treating him before he could give Mr. Woolsey his report.  So after I was back on my own feet, he and I had a talk and I … ah, I made him a promise that that isn't ever going to happen again."

 Rodney and Ronon both looked a bit amused, but Teyla was more understanding of John's reluctance to give up control even in such circumstances.  It was a trait of a concerned leader, and also a fault in a prideful man -- or a fear in someone who had had his control taken from him without his consent often enough that he would deny his own needs.  Her experiences with Michael had changed her own feelings in this regard; thus more the real reason she had been hiding away from everybody after her transformation that because of the stares and mistrust she was provoking.

"We will look after him," Teyla promised, with a nudge to Rodney when he did not join Ronon in agreeing until her prompt. 

Jennifer nodded, satisfied and, fortunately, not upset at Rodney's agreement.  More often in the evenings these last few months, Rodney and Jennifer were spending time together when neither of them stayed working.  Sometimes Jennifer even joined them in 'team' things, or convinced Rodney to participate in a few of the more public diversions Richard seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in organizing.  But Jennifer, like Katie before her, like even Samantha Carter and Elizabeth and now Kanaan, had learned that when one of them were injured, the team would close ranks, preferring the company of only each other until worry could truly give way to relief. 

There might be one day in the future that Jennifer would be welcome the first night out of the infirmary; that Kanaan would not feel excluded.  Yet there was a part of Teyla that was not sure that day would ever truly come.  At least not while they stayed in Atlantis.  Kanaan could accept that about Teyla, having had his own dear, dear companions in his youth that had been his hunting band… before the Wraith and before Michael.  Whether Jennifer could come to terms with this part of Rodney would probably be the final determination in whether they would actually be happy staying together.

*****

They coaxed John into Ronon's room with less trouble than Teyla had predicted after helping him from the infirmary and then dinner.  Because it was the four of them no one gave them a second glance, and Ronon and John's secret stayed safe for one more night.  Teyla found it tragic that their feelings for one another was considered wrong by so many people; she could not even conceive of a world who valid life and love as little as it seemed their Earth did.  In truth, she could not conceive of a world that held six billion people either, a number so large that it had no meaning in her own world despite all of Rodney's attempts to give it context for her.

The need for their secret was tragic and wrong, yet there was a small, selfish part of Teyla who held the fact that she was one of only five others who knew the secret as something joyous and to be revered. 

Ronon's room had become the team's default when they needed to lick their wounds or reconnect.  He had commandeered a surprisingly large one after the expedition had been allowed to return to Pegasus and Atlantis, giving Rodney cause to complain until Ronon had mentioned that he had never been told there were rules limiting what kind of room he could have.  Nobody, not Elizabeth nor Samantha or even Richard, had ever given Ronon reason to suspect he needed to move. 

Ronon had been quite smug when he then reminded Rodney that there were still more empty rooms than full in the towers and corridors the expedition had cleared and designated for living quarters.  He had been even smugger when he pointed out that if you included the three laboratories that Rodney claimed as personal and private -- three rooms that held as many of his personal belongings as the room in which Rodney slept -- that Rodney had claimed more ground area than even the Gate Room.  John had nearly fallen to the floor with laughter after that statement, and after Rodney had, not unexpectedly, sputtered in mock rage and indignation.

No one was particularly laughing now, but there was a state of contentment and comfort amongst them.  Rodney had brought a couple of movies along with his laptop he was for the moment ignoring.  He chosen the first two of the Back to the Future series, films they had already seen and enjoyed in deference to John's limited vision and the likely fact that he would not be able to stay awake through even one of them

Even now John was lying across Ronon's bed with his head in Ronon's lap, accepting the only comfort he could take due to both his current health and his current condition.  He had been sent from the infirmary with a bottle of pain relief tablets and ones meant to ease his overtaxed muscles.  He had refused, of course, any sleeping aid.  The latter was something Teyla suspected was for the best in this one instance, as he would need to take both of the medications at least once more in the hours before morning. 

Glancing back up at the two of them, at Ronon subconsciously combing his fingers through John's hair and undoubtedly bringing as much or perhaps more comfort and relief to John than Jennifer's medicines, Teyla was reminded of her own first tearful nights with Charin, of the terrible evenings with Halling and Jinto after they had lost Jinto's mother to the Wraith.  Manifested there was comfort and love amidst great pain or sorrow or fear, and Teyla had little doubt that the two of them had also been like this at some point soon after their return from the services for John's father, that John had offered a similar solace once Ronon had recovered from his second addiction to the Wraith enzyme only to learn of Tyre's redemption and sacrifice.

The John of a year ago would never have allowed this, even in private and just between the two of them.  Not that either of the two of them had admitted, even to themselves, that there was something between the two of them back then.  And Teyla doubted that Ronon had _ever_ thought to find someone else he would feel close enough to, to trust showing or accepting such vulnerability.

If nothing better happened in her future (or in theirs), Teyla could still feel content to have found them, and to know that they had found each other.

"Popcorn?" Rodney offered as he shook the bag he had taken from the microwave that had been John's contribution, along with a … mini-fridge comparable to the ones he had in his own room to Ronon's room become the team's room.  Rodney had provided the movie player and a real television instead of them trying to view everything on one of the small laptop screens, while Teyla had traded for a collection of pillows and blankets that were now on the floor for her and Rodney to share.  All but the blanket Ronon had kept one back for John, had drawn it over John's legs up to his waist. 

Although the smell of the popcorn was not as pleasant as she normally found it, Teyla carefully poured a handful and picked up the first kernel to taste.  As Rodney joined her to sit back against the side of Ronon's bed, he watched her with more care and interest than he normally exhibited, his expression a picture of curiosity and surprising restraint.

"Yes, Rodney?" she encouraged him.

Realizing her returned interest, Rodney flushed and ducked his head, burying his attention back in the bag of popcorn as he poured out the half for John and Ronon to share.

"Rodney?" she tried again, reaching over to still his hand.

"I was just wondering … well, I know I should ask but … does food still taste good?"

For a second Teyla pulled away from him, shocked by the question and more than a little hurt.  Even John rose up to yell and slap the back of Rodney's head, not actually managing the slap although Ronon looked willing to do so for him once he helped John find a comfortable position once more.  Rodney looked mortified, but Teyla stopped the three of them from letting this degenerate into anything worse. 

"I encouraged him," she pointed out with a deep breath to calm herself. "And, in reality, I have no reason to be offended although I do admit that I was so.  Rodney's curiosity is one of the things we most admire about him --"

"I don't know about that," John snorted.

"Is one of the things we most _love_ about him," Teyla repeated with what she knew was a pointed grin, especially given her new teeth.  "I have been despairing that people are not treating me normally, and then I recoil when Rodney does exactly that.  Forgive me, Rodney.  And thank you."  She deliberately took a bite of the popcorn, leaning back against the bed and John's trailing hand to truly give the matter the thought that Rodney required. 

"Food tastes … food still tastes familiar.  I still get hungry and I still get full from eating it, but I find I am getting little satisfaction from where I normally would.  Nothing smells the same and perhaps that is the worst of it.  Do you have further questions?" she then smiled at Rodney, but meant for any of them to ask.  "This could be a … unique opportunity to learn more about the Wraith, although I in all truth I do not think I could allow Jennifer to conduct any more tests than she already has."

Surprisingly, Ronon paused the movie.  He did not ask anything in the sudden silence, but his willingness to allow it of others spoke volumes.

John only offered a scrunched face when she tried to encourage him with a look, but Rodney was once again all curiosity and wonder when she returned her gaze in his direction. 

"Obviously you can't feed in the normal Wraith fashion," Rodney started with only a faint touch of embarrassment coloring his tone and his face this time.  "But when you first changed, you seemed driven to try.  So there is something there?  Something about us -- about humans -- that affects you?"

That, of course, was The Question, as Rodney was so fond of capitalizing his words for emphasis when he felt gestures were not enough.  It was the question Teyla had most feared being asked, yet the one she most wanted to try and explain, to try and share the beauty and wonder that she felt in being able to sense the vitality of the people around her.  At least with these three she knew that she had no need to fear admitting the new attraction that she felt for them.  Their utter trust, along with Kanaan and Torren's, had been her only solace during this difficult time, and perhaps she could share of little of that back by being utterly honest with them.

*****

By the time Teyla had finished answering all of Rodney's, and eventually John and Ronon's questions, her voice was hoarse and John was sound asleep in Ronon's lap.  She let Rodney assist her in rising, helped him clean up so that Ronon did not fret or feel obligated to displace John, feeling pleased and well cared for herself when Rodney then escorted her back to hers and Kanann's quarters.  Despite the lateness of the hour, Kanaan was awake to greet her and to express his gratitude to Rodney, although Torren was thankfully fast asleep. 

While Torren had given no evidence that he was aware of the changes in his mother -- he certainly was not refusing or showing any lessening of his usual eagerness to feed from her -- she was feeing some discomfort, although in her discussions with her friends tonight she began to think it was much like her initial dismay and sense of betrayal at Rodney's first question.  She felt betrayed or dismayed because she _thought_ she should feel that way.  Because of her own fear and abhorrence of the Wraith, she could not help but assign the same feelings to everyone else in regard to her changed self, even if those reactions were never truly in evidence.

A part of her was still cross with Rodney, however, not because of the questions, but because he had never mentioned to John that Radek had found references that might lead to the end of their changes.  Then again, if Rodney had brought it up, John would have undoubtedly insisted on attempting the fix the instant Rodney determined what would be needed.  A day's wait or two -- even a week -- would not be that much of an inconvenience when compared with the stress the cure could place on John's already battered body.  Teyla only hoped that Rodney was observing his own wisdom and not staying up through what was left of the night to coax forth and understand the Ancestor's secrets.

**5.**

"You sure you won't wait for another day or two, Colonel?  I've confirmed Rodney and Radek's understanding that there wouldn't be any side affects from you and Teyla staying in your current forms if you need to take some more time to recover," Jennifer tried one last time to talk John out of going back to the mind room today

John didn't honor her concern with a no or even a snort of derision, only turning on his heel and stomping out of the infirmary with his goal in mind.  While Ronon -- and probably the rest of the team -- was somewhat embarrassed by John's rudeness, Ronon also understood John's frustration and was just as anxious to get things back to normal.  Ronon liked Jennifer a lot, might have thought about becoming involved with her had he not chosen to be with John, but there were times he found himself wishing she would grow a backbone as Carter had once described it.  For as long as Jennifer had been in Atlantis, surrounded by the military demands and expectations, and dealing with crises on at least a weekly basis, she hadn't yet figured out that giving people choices sometimes only kept things that needed to happen from happening. 

She didn't get that the longer this specific crisis went on, the more likely John and just maybe Teyla, would loose it and do something Woolsey wouldn't be able to overlook.  So far Woolsey had kept from reporting the incident to the IOA, which had surprised the hell out of Ronon from what he'd seen of the man's usual love of rules.  But that first night, Ronon had had nightmares about the IOA or the SGC somehow getting wind of what had happened and demanding John be replaced as the military leader.  Of John being recalled back to Earth until McKay could guarantee he knew how to fix things, yet McKay never being given the time to do the research -- and of Teyla being forced from Atlantis and hunted by people who only saw what she looked like instead of who she was. 

If those were his nightmares, he could only imagine what John or Teyla's were, and Jennifer wanting to wait until everything was better was only another way of insuring nothing would even get better.  There would always be something wrong or someone hurt or some new crisis that interrupted.  Such was the nature of life -- not just here in Atlantis.

Despite that realization, Ronon didn't fault McKay for waiting the extra day in letting John know his team had found something. As of yesterday, McKay had only known the starting place.  He hadn't yet found something that explained what had happened and what to do to change them back. Given that John had left a perfectly good food behind to drag them down to the infirmary so they could get Jennifer and Woolsey's go ahead to end this once McKay did own up to what he'd been doing well into last night, Ronon had no doubt John would have left his bed just the same as he had his breakfast, and had John done so yesterday, he wouldn't have made it more than a couple of steps before collapsing.  

When the adult John Sheppard was in pain but not confined to the infirmary, he sometimes reminded Ronon a little too much of Kell although normally John only pushed or took out his discomfort on himself.  And maybe McKay, if their scientist was being particularly smug or obnoxious.  This off-sized version, however, reminded Ronon instead of Melena's little sister, who would always want to join them and try to do things she was too young or unskilled to manage, would show up even when she was not invited and then complain about being bored or being left out without any of the charm or teasing manner that had sometimes made her fun to be around anyway.

McKay had called John a brat after the fourth time John had interrupted him yesterday and demanded to know what McKay was working on.  Suggesting that Ronon take John away for more movie viewing and for him to see if he could find episodes of _Two and a Half Men_, McKay had then corrected himself and suggested that something called _Dennis the Menace_ would be even better before he had kicked them out and locked the door against John's return.

John's mood had not improved at McKay's suggestions, and then had taken a turn for the worse minutes later when Woolsey called to remind John that his mission report for the day before was still due.  And that Woolsey wanted it to be handed over personally instead of forwarding it electronically.

John had left Woolsey's office after his dressing down back full of the rage he'd had trouble controlling in the first couple of days after the change.  At least he'd also shown enough sense to hide out with Teyla and Torren while he fumed, keeping the baby occupied while they watched Teyla perform her daily workout.  Of course, his hours of hiding and sulking had caused him to miss his next scheduled round of meds, so Ronon and McKay had both needed to be called to come help John back to his quarters.

But they were there now, back to the room that had started everything.  In addition to the team, Jennifer had joined them as had Lorne, who was there in case the gene was required to operate the equipment instead of John's having been what had triggered the transformation, and Radek in case something went wrong again.  Woolsey had elected to stay well away, quite aware that it was his presence most often affecting John for the worst, thus making sure it also wouldn't compromise what they were expecting to happen.

Ronon still wasn't sure what the point of the rooms was.  McKay had called it a holographic sand therapy and new age claptrap, and nothing in those words made sense in any context Ronon could see.  Jennifer had tried explaining it as psychiatry, that it was most likely the office of an Ancestor who'd been like Kate Heightmeyer, though Ronon had seen the connection between being changed into someone else and talking about things that were bothering you.  John seemed to understand them, though, and it wouldn't be the first time he and Teyla trusted John and McKay to lead them through something alien to their world and experiences.  That was why they were a team and why trust was so important.  He'd been trained as a specialist; he wasn't supposed to know about everything.

"Okay, from everything that we've found, once we go in there and start the sequence again, as long as nothing interrupts or shuts it down prematurely this time, the room will do it's hoodoo and when it's satisfied that you're not, you know, still _troubled_, it turns you back to normal and pronounces you sane and fit to continue as a part of society."

"What do you mean, we?" John of course ignored everything else McKay had said and focused on that.

McKay lifted his chin defensively.  "We as in all of us.  Ronon and I are joining you."

"No fucking way.  I've already seen your damn nightmares, McKay, and I am not going to take the chance of you turning into a… a --"

"An idiot, Colonel?  Don't worry, you've already won that role and that isn't what's going to happen anyway.  We found documented cases of Ancients undergoing this treatment with sponsors in addition to the observer.  Only those horribly traumatized, of course, the real head cases, but then isn't that --"

"I, for one, would be more comfortable to have my closest friends with me to face this," Teyla stepped between John and McKay.  "In many ways this is indeed like our experiences with the Crystalline Entity, and I still believe that if one of us could have been with Kate like you and Rodney were with each other during the attacks, Kate would have found the strength to be able to fight back, again as the two of you offered to one another." 

She pressed her hand against John's arm, intending to offer comfort instead of invoking the sudden shame Ronon watched flush over John's face.

"The situations the crystal lifeform brought out in us were absurd for the most part, more like the fantastic type of situations displayed in your horror movies," she continued when John finally looked back her direction.  "They were things chosen to invoke great fear as much because of the strangeness to them as from being something our inner self might worry about.  What has happened to us here is all the more frightening because our changes are not so exaggerated and the fears that are being manifested are true, at least in my case.  Ever since Carson and Elizabeth first told me that I shared DNA with the Wraith, I have often dreamt of being taken over or worse, of willingly going with them.  Michael's interest in me and in Torren has only made such thoughts worse, even to the point of worrying that they were beginning to affect my waking thoughts.

"Teyla …" 

John's voice was tight, as tight as Ronon knew his own would be.  Had what had happened to Teyla happen to him, Ronon wasn't sure he could have kept his sanity even though he also knew that it would have been completely out of his control.  For Teyla to believe that this could somehow be her fault …

"Nothing is going to happen to Ronon or me," McKay stepped forward to Teyla's side.  "I'm still not sure what exactly the two of you are going to have to do to convince the observer that you're okay now, but we should be there with you, just like Teyla said.  There is nothing you could do or say that could possibly be any more embarrassing than your clown fixation -- or your current teenage angst.  Frankly, if this was you then, I'm surprised you weren't a cutter."

Not even Ronon could get away with working John up like that to get him back in control, which is why Ronon had never resented McKay and John's friendship even in the times the two of them seemed closer than he was to John despite their sharing of bodies.  This time Ronon had only a vague idea of what McKay meant, and still was amused to catch the look of horror and chagrin on Jennifer's face at McKay's behavior.  Fortunately Radek shushed her before she could call McKay on it, and even more fortunately, whatever McKay had said, worked.  John gave McKay a look of annoyance with a hint of relief instead of rage, the hit against McKay's arm well telegraphed and only a bit harder than the swat John occasionally launched at the back of McKay's head.

"I have documented proof from Jeanie about your own teenage years and all I can say is Emo much?  I'm not sure which was more traumatizing, the Goth black dye job, or the glitter and eye-liner."

"That's a lie," McKay punched John back and turned a swift, scared glance Jennifer's direction.  "Do not believe him," McKay damn near begged.  "I never died my hair, it was blond and curly and maybe a little too long, but --"

"But the glitter and eye-liner?" Jennifer asked with an amused smile, maybe not understanding everything that had just happened, but smart enough to figure out things had just shifted for the better.

"Only once, and it had been all Jeannie's doing.  I had an allergic reaction to the damn makeup two minutes after she'd snapped the pictures and so you can imagine who had the last laugh.  She was grounded for the whole summer."

"As … enlightening as these insights are, do you think we can speed things up a little?" Lorne redirected them, doing a much better job at hiding his smile than Zelenka was.

"Some place you need to be, Major?" John shot him a glare that was all form and no substance.

"Just have a day's worth of paperwork that needs to be done because my CO interprets limited duty as not having to prep the military part of the databurst due to the SGC tonight, and losing the few hours left to try and finish it … Sir."

"Sounds like your CO is being a real dick, Major."

"I've served with worse."  Lorne took that observation from John as the apology it was meant to be, and not just for saddling him with the paperwork. 

"Just keep reminding yourself of that when you need to, Evan."  And remind John when it was needed was left unsaid but not un-understood.

"If any sees or hears anything about clowns, whales or …" John looked between him and Teyla.

"Those little food cakes that have crème in the center," Ronon offered.

McKay swiveled his head in surprise.  "You don't like Twinkies?  But you eat _any_thing.  You'll try something unidentified from someone else's fire!"

Ronon shrugged.  "No one told me there would be stuff inside the first time I tried one and I thought I had bitten into a bug.  Had to eat enough bugs while I was running."

"Okay, so ignore all references to clowns, whales, Twinkies and --"

"I do not like it when my cold food intermingles with my hot food," Teyla sounded quite serious.

"Oh, that's not even real," McKay scoffed.

"I don't know, McKay, Contactocoleiphobia is the fear of balls touching and Sitophobia is the fear of food, so Teyla's should be Contactositophobia."

"How do you even know that?" and McKay didn't actually sound like he was doubting John.

"You're not the first hypochondriac and head case I've had to work with, Mc --"

"Oh ha, ha.  Let's get this done," McKay pushed John forward. 

Ronon let Teyla precede him; taking one last look at the three he was trusting to keep them safe.  Jennifer was the only one who looked troubled, but if it came down to something medical, Ronon had no fear that she wouldn't step up and do what was needed.

"Radek, if you've screwed this up," McKay was continuing, "you're going to be the one changing diapers and talking my sister Jeanie into adopting the four of us and Torren."

"I could live with Jeanie being my second mother," Ronon nodded.  "She's got great --"

"Do not finish that statement," McKay screeched.  "I promise you, your room will be filled with Twinkies and caterpillars if you finish --"

"Calm down, McKay.  I'm sure he was going to say Jeanie's got _a_ great sense of humor or maybe _a_ cuddly lap."

"Well if anyone knew about cuddly laps, Colonel," McKay muttered sotto voice. 

"You're just jealous that it's _your_ tummy that Jennifer finds so cushiony and --"

"We are ready, Rodney, Colonel," Radek interrupted. "The system is booted up and on stand-by.  Once you pass beyond the glass, it will close and the sequence will begin.  Good luck."

**6.**

There was absolutely no rational reason that John should have been surprised when he opened his eyes.  Everything had been leading to this from the moment he'd begun to change: his appearance; his out of control emotions; his reactions to Woolsey -- even Teyla's epiphany and recent confession.  Even so, it was quite one thing to know that your authority issues were actually daddy issues.  And it was quite another to suddenly be waking up in the horse stable of his family's home in Virginia, the same home that Ronon had seen during his dad's funeral, the one his dad left to be run by Mrs. Diggs, their housekeeper, when John was nine and his dad had vowed he would never live there again after Dave and John's mother's death.

For a moment he was scared that the disruption the first time they'd gone into the room had stopped him at fifteen -- yes, fifteen and not the seventeen that everyone else had judged him to be; he'd had enough problems with being taken serious when they thought he was almost legal to feel any need to point out he was more likely too young to drive -- instead of regressing him back to nine.  That he was going to have to relieve his mom's final, awful days and the just as hellish week that had followed.  But as he looked down his body now covered with straw, he saw that it was the same weird, lanky encouraging sight that in the space of only a couple of months during the summer of his fifteenth year, had the girls suddenly taking a liking too (and some of the boys), while a lot of the other boys started resenting him.  John wasn't sure he'd have been able to refrain becoming homicidal had Rodney come to discover that the John of nine years old had been more of a miniature Daniel Radcliffe and Harry Potter sans the glasses yet much more awkward.

Speaking of Rodney…

John shifted his head and saw that his team was sprawled out around him, and that they seemed to be sacked out in the stall that had belonged to Yaeger before his dad had gotten even with John for blowing his PSATs by selling John's favorite ride.  Now (then?) it had been converted to storage, and had proved to be a haven that John had sought out more than he'd ever ridden the horse in the first place.

Good, but whatever happened to ladies first?  Even if taking on the Wraith for Teyla was going to be cake walk after this for John.

He gave a kick to Ronon, who was the closest, then rolled over to check on Teyla, who was also looking the same as she had when they entered the room - still all Wraithy and what in the hell was Mrs. Diggs or Dave going to make of that?

"What the fuck?" were Rodney's first words, followed quickly by a sneeze loud enough that it spooked the other horses off in their own stalls.  If it was the horses and not just the face full of hay that Rodney was bothered by, this was going to be a pretty uncomfortable scene for more than just John.

"John, are you in here?" the next nail in John's coffin called out from somewhere in front of them.  "Dad's about ready to spit nails and I'm not sure he or Dean Hayes are going to be willing to wait for you much longer."

"Dad?  Dean Hayes?  You're not talking about Henry Hayes are you? The United States' 43rd President and former associate dean --"

"At Harvard Law School.  Yes, and shut up, Rodney," John hissed.

He knew that Dave knew exactly where he was, and that Dave wouldn't be coming any farther into the stable now that he'd given warning.  He and his older brother weren't -- hadn't -- and boy was he going to confuse himself if he kept trying to relate this all to memory instead of actually happening in some manner.  He and Dave weren't anywhere near as close as they had been even a couple of years from when this should be, certainly not close enough that John could figure out how to explain his companions without Dave thinking him mental or god knew what.  At this age Dave had been enough of a peacemaker (and coward) to give John various warnings about their father's return to the estate if it meant their father would just end up angry at John instead of at the both of them.  Their true falling out hadn't happened until … well, yeah, more or less now, as his performance in front of Dean Hayes had been pretty shameless and had only led him to try to get even better humiliated reactions out of Dave and dad.

Yet if John was expected to _change_ the shitstorm he'd begun that/this night, well the Ancient's were going to be pretty disappointed.  First off, acting any differently wasn't going to change what had really happened, wasn't going to magically make the future/current time in Atlantis any better.  And even if he did somehow manage to avoid disappointing his father over his Harvard interview in some kind of recreation, it wasn't like there hadn't been plenty of other things he'd done subsequently to make his father just as angry or disappointed.  Things -- _he_ \-- may have started the final, irrevocable rift between them here, but it took two to make a fight, and Patrick Sheppard was the expert who had taught John everything he knew about how to do it dirty.

If this was just another means to make him feel guilty over this and what had followed, the Ancient's could go fuck themselves.  Been there, done that and not only been disinherited but had already experienced the pain of knowing he could never make things better.

As Kate had found out, John was pretty conversant in his flaws and stupidity, and was jaded and self-righteous enough to be pretty convincing that he didn't care.  He changed what he couldn't live with, tried to make redemption for what he couldn’t change, and suppressed everything else.  While maybe that wouldn't satisfy or work for somebody else, it was who he was and was how he could get up and look at himself in the mirror most mornings.  It worked for him.

"Dave, let them know I'll be another half hour or so.  I'll need to clean up first," he then found himself saying despite his resolve not to jump through any Ancient hoops.  It was one thing to reveal in being an asshole when you were fifteen and pissing off the people who had stopped meaning anything to him.  He'd already shown his team what kind of a dick he could be, not just over this last week of course; but still there was no point in belaboring that fact.

Dave didn't respond, but John had no doubt that he hadn't heard -- or that Dave wouldn’t help him out.  It just wasn't in his big brother's nature to be willing to escalate their conflicts.

"So I take it this is Casa de Sheppard?" Rodney finally asked when John went to pull him to his feet while Ronon saw to Teyla. 

"One of them," John answered offhandedly.  "We stayed here most summers.  It looks like this is the week dad had left Massachusetts with his good friend Henry Hayes to come visit and give me the why I should go to Harvard like they had speech."

"But you went to Stanford."

"And I didn't study law or business, yes, Rodney, I was there.  After my sterling performance tonight, it took Dad donating enough money to name a hall after him so that Dave could still go there even though I kinda had the impression that Hayes wasn't all that put out.  It was the only time Dad ever hit me, long after Dean Hayes was gone, of course.  Hey, no, I really _did_ deserve it," he chuffed a laugh at their disconcerted expressions.  "I was drunk and obnoxious, damn near abusive and the only thing I didn't shout out was that I was letting the horse trainer fuck me.  And that was only because I knew Dad wouldn't just fire Mike's ass, but would make sure he never got a job with horses or around kids again."

"Ah, the famed John Sheppard charm and suicidal protectiveness in its infant stages," McKay jeered.  "Like I really need to see either of those traits in action.  Or are we here to see little Johnny turn over a new leaf in some twisted version of _It's A Wonderful Life_, only showing you how much better things really could have been? If so, I really have to revise my opinions of the Ancients and reclassify and transfer this particular experiment back to the defense sections.  Maybe it's not a psychiatrist's office so much as an interrogator's and this is their form of waterboarding."

"You're the one who did the translations, McKay.  And either way, I'm really not planning on going into that house to watch my younger self self distruct -- or to take his place.  How do we get through this, deal with Teyla's issues and get the fuck out of here?"

"Are we really back on Earth?" Ronon asked, his tone shaken enough that John started feeling guilty for being so self absorbed even if that was more or less supposed to be the point. 

"It smells and feels the same the last time we were here," he added, sifting his fingers through some of the hay.  "We had stuff like this, but this is wider and more brittle than _ulis_ grass."

The implications if they somehow were -- the last time universes were breached they had to damn near deplete the fucking ZPM getting Rod back home, and the last time John went time traveling he had to wait seven hundred fucking years to find a star turning into a black hole.  If this was a reoccurrence of either, he would absolutely fucking kill the next Ancient he ran across, starting with tracking down Chaya and making Jackson cough up Morgan _and_ Merlin, and --

"No, I still feel Atlantis. This is probably something similar to the interface we found the crew of the Aurora hooked up to," Rodney choked out through his own little bit of hyperventilating. 

John still felt rather foolish for overreacting to the point that he hadn't sensed Atlantis himself.

"That virtual construct felt damn real and as best as I could ever tell, the environment was mutually shaped and agreed upon by those who were hooked up.  We couldn’t change things from the inside, because of the perimeters set up on the outside, and because there were a lot more crew thinking the Aurora they were interacting within was real than the two of us who knew that it wasn't."

"Meaning?" John asked pointedly.

"Meaning this may be more like that mist planet than the first year than the Aurora," McKay snapped back.  "That we can affect and change things.  Just our appearance and interactions with the constructs we're going to meet will be guiding what happens -- Look, think of it as if we were inside a video game," Rodney tried again.  "Obviously there is some kind of outside programming that sets up the situation, but nothing is going to happen unless we direct it.  No doubt we're in your little fantasy first, because you've got the gene and Teyla doesn't.  While we might be able to skip back and forth between two scenarios or maybe even more, well, you always get a higher score if you don't mess around with side trips."

John frowned and licked his lips.  "So if the scenario has us here on this night, then obviously I'm supposed to go through with the meeting with my father and Dean Hayes to get us to the next level.  Only --"

"Why with Hayes?" Rodney asked, his fingers doing that precursor gesturing before he began snapping out his ideas.  "Obviously what happened between you and Hayes never affecting anything.  You didn't go to Harvard or any Law School, and Hayes didn't prevent whatever Senator you bribed to recommend you into the Air Force from doing so, nor did he deny your admission into the Stargate program when O'Neil and Weir put your name forth.  Hayes is likely just window dressing, or simply a marker to tie you to a specific point in your childhood.  Other than making a drunken ass of yourself, what happened tonight?  You've said you were disinherited and obviously you became completely estranged from your family.  Was it now?  Did you or your dad emancipate you?"

"Any local judge would have been a friend of my Dad," John couldn't help but respond dryly.  "And most wouldn't allow a fifteen year old to be emancipated regardless of who knew whom."

"Fifteen?" Rodney sputtered.  "You're only _fifteen_?  You … you're …"

He gestured up and down John's body suggestively enough that John knew he was reacting despite it being Rodney and despite Rodney not meaning it in the way John's body was interpreting.  It had been a long week now that he'd gotten used to having regular sex again.

"I got lucky in the genetics lottery, yeah, I've heard it all before from guys like you, Rodney."

"Hey --"

"Hey, no, I didn't become emancipated -- granted legal release from my father's responsibility," John explained to Ronon and Teyla. 

"Parents could give up their responsibility over their children?" Teyla asked, quite obviously appalled. 

Ronon looked pretty shook up too.

"Normally it's kids wanting to get away from abusive parents,   Or, no doubt in Rodney's case, kids who are smarter than their folks and who are being even indirectly harmed by their parent's decisions.  The kids have to show they have the maturity to be on their own -- which I did not at fifteen, obviously -- and they have to have the financial means to support themselves.  Most of the time when it's granted in non abuse cases, its for the kids who are entertainment stars, who are making more money in a summer than their folks do in their lifetime, and who want to keep their parents from spending all that money before they're old enough to get access to their trusts."

John knew most of what he explained would have had little context in the lives and societies Teyla and Ronon grew up in; kids were the _only_ future Pegasus societies had any hope of holding onto thanks to the Wraith. So much so that if a parent died or was culled, the rest of the community made sure the child was taken care of.  On the other hand, kids matured pretty damn early in the Pegasus Galaxy and if John had been fifteen here, no doubt he would have already chosen his apprenticeship years before and perhaps would be looking at journeying off on his own or with a mate like Jinto had.

"And did you emancipate from your parents, Rodney?" Teyla reached out to him.

"Not officially," Rodney shook his head.  "But I got through my primary and secondary schools early and was accepted into university when I was sixteen.  So while my parents still had legal responsibility over me, I was living at the college instead of with them."

"And you're situation, John?" she turned to him.

"Like I said, no emancipation but I'd considered it -- hell, he probably did too.  But if we had broken off contact with each other this early, we wouldn't have had another special ten years of driving each other crazy.  Of course, after tonight, " John tried to get back to thinking about the mission, "that was pretty much the _only_ way Dad and I ever interacted.  Seeing who could get the bigger rise out of the other.  My marriage to Nancy was the only thing I did during the rest of his life that he approved of."

"That he _said_ he approved of," Ronon spoke out gruffly.  "Nancy said --"

"When in the hell did you talk to Nancy?" John turned on Ronon.  "We took off after the replicator that afternoon."

"When she called to meet you after you asked her for help.  You weren't there to answer your phone the first time and I thought it might be that Bates guy.  I answered, we talked and she said some things --"

"That I don't want to fucking hear about," John couldn’t help snarling.  "I … you… we'll talk about it later," he spit out; knowing that getting mad at Ronon wouldn't accomplish anything, and that Ronon hadn't actually done anything wrong.  "What Nancy may or may not have said about my Dad doesn't have anything to do with being here right now and --"

"Maybe it does," Ronon pushed.  "You're fucked up because you don't know whether things could have gotten better between you and now it's too late.  And maybe you're _here_ because of your part in it."

"Maybe you are here just to tell him you still love him, John."

It was Teyla and she was just trying to help, probably wasn't even concerned about the longer that he was taking, the longer it would be before she could get back to normal.  There was also the fact that even before she'd become a Wraith, and even if he hadn't been a kid, she could absolutely kick his ass.  Still didn't mean that John wasn't having to work really, really hard not to tell her just what he thought of her suggestion.  The Athosians might be all touchy feeling, but that wasn't the way things worked on Earth and even if it were, it wasn't the way things worked between the Sheppard men.  Any love that might have once been there had died and been buried with his mom.

"Maybe it's nothing that extreme." Ronon slowly and deliberately stepped in front of John.  "Maybe you can just say you're sorry or something.  If he doesn't care, then you'll know everything that happened afterward was all worth it."

"You do know this isn't real, right?" John growled out. "That everything we're seeing her is just memories out of my head.Dad and Dave are all going to react like I'm expecting them to and --"

"So what?" McKay butted in.  "Maybe this is all supposed to be wish fulfillment.  You're saying you won't feel better by telling him off when you don't have to worry about the consequences?  That it wouldn’t ease something inside if the two of you reconciled, even if it's only in your head?" he added after Teyla gave him her disappointed mom look which was just scary and creepy coming from a Wraith Queen.

"Do you have any better idea?" Ronon took a step closer.  "I'll stay in here with you for as long as you need, but it looks to me that us just standing here talking isn't making you feel better or get better.  The guy who was willing to fuck up his future just to prove a point might be an asshole, but he certainly isn't a coward."

"Fuck you," John glared at Ronon.

"Not until you grow up."

And wasn't that the real crux of it.  Not that it made it any easier to hear -- or to deal with.

''Fine.  But I don't need any witnesses and I have no idea how to explain any of you anyway."  Not to mention the fucking eye patch he was currently sporting.  Which he pulled off and shoved into Ronon's hands.  "Give me … give me an hour, okay?" 

"Of course, John." Teyla eased her way around Ronon and put her hands on his shoulders. 

John knew the drill and reluctantly dipped his head toward hers.  He didn't want to be mollified, but didn't like feeling angry either -- especially against these three.  When this was all over, he was going to have several apologies t make; maybe starting with a practice one right now would be a good idea.

****

"I feel rather gypped that being restored didn't get rid of my aches and pains," John announced as he came up behind where his team was watching a couple of … well, unicorns gamboling with a couple of horses in the near pasture.  John was pretty sure he parents hadn't really owned any unicorns, so obviously the construct around them was starting to build a new environment.  Only he was pretty sure the unicorns weren't a contribution by Teyla.

"John, you are well?" Teyla turned, reluctantly, to face him, her face lighting up when she saw the he was back to his adult self.

"I'm fine," he responded, not wanting to go into what had happened and knowing that he wouldn't have to.  No doubt at some point he'd end up talking about it to one or more of them, it was only fair since they'd had to put up with the crap that they get an idea of the resolution.  But they had other things to worry about first, and John still needed time to sort out things in his brain.

"So you're still feeling all of the abuse you put your body through on M9B-013?  Didn't Jennifer say that your transformation had been total? That your _fifteen_ year old body didn't have any gunshot wounds or knife scars or burns or the iratus feeding marks though it did still have, what was it, evidence of a broken leg, a collar bone, two ribs and a finger?"

"It was four ribs and I didn't spend all of my time locked up in my room ready books and plotting on how to take over the world, Rodney.  You might have noticed the horses, well, unicorns," since all four of the equines now sported ivory spiral horns.  "I guess that would explain why Dave's girlfriend looked like Jeanie.  Obviously you and maybe Ronon are shaping the environment just as much as Teyla or I might be."

"You were fantasizing about my sister again?" Rodney yelped. "With your skeezy brother?"

"Hey, Dave was not skeezy," John protested and accepted the clap on his shoulder from Ronon, wishing he could still just lean into him like he'd gotten away with when he'd been fifteen.  But they had no idea whether the people outside were hearing or seeing any of this, and while he had actually outed himself with the crack about Mike the trainer, if Lorne had no evidence of DADT violations going on currently, he wasn't the type of soldier or man to go looking for them.  He ached more than just in his body.

"And I liked Ingrid, who was not only his high school sweetheart but turned out to be the woman he is still married to," John continued.  "What's more, she liked me, so I have no reason to have replaced her with your sister.  Although Jeanie liked me quite a bit too."

"And thank you Captain Kirk.  Now we know you are back to normal," only Rodney's scorn came with a wink and a little thrust of his chin toward Ronon, which let John know that Rodney had realized what had been .revealed today too, and that he would do everything he could to help John and Ronon continue their misdirection.

"So now that just leaves Teyla.  You getting any ideas about how we can move things your direction?"

"I would not mind if we waited a bit longer here," Teyla turned her head back toward the pasture.  "Your horses are quite beautiful.  I have never seen such wings."

"Actually, that's what is called a pegasus," Rodney explained as they all turned to see what was showing up behind the fence.

"Pegasus, like your people's name for our galaxy?" Teyla asked, now thoroughly enchanted.  "We have nothing like this here on any planet I have ever visited or in any people's tales that I have heard."

"Yeah, well, they aren't actually real in our galaxy either," Rodney was now stammering.  "I, ah, I've actually only ever seen horses in movies or tv and books; with the additional allergies I had as a kid, my mother wouldn't even let me go to a petting zoo.  And Jeanie really had this thing about fantasy books, unicorns and pegasus and --"

"If any fucking Care Bears show up in the scenario, I'm going to make you come back in here on your own to deal with your very serious issues, Rodney" John assured him. 

"How about we just take a walk a see what shows up?" Ronon suggested.  "I'm pretty sure that's a ring of the Ancestors back in there amongst the trees."

"Which are beginning to look like the wood outside of my village on Athos."

Teyla no longer looked quite so enchanted even if the unicorns and pegasus hadn't disappeared when the fence they'd been behind had.  She started moving, though, and if they were going to stay with her to provide any sort of aid or comfort, they needed to get moving themselves.

In the way of dreams, the gate never seemed to get closer as they walked, although the forest soon gave way to a clearing that now showed the remnants of a ruined city.  John had never really seen the old city of Athos in the daylight -- just when had it become daylight?  And from the twin gasps Teyla and Ronon both let escape, John was beginning to think that they weren't on imaginary Athos after all.  His focus was for shit, but he'd been in front of a hatch just like the one now at their feet only two days ago, and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forget what the skyline of destroyed Sateda looked like.

"Um, the hatch or do we move on?" John kicked at the wheel with his _Nike_.  He was back in sweats today, without the PT shorts since he hadn't been exactly sure how quick the change back was going to happen. 

"Depends, is the hatch code 4, 8, 15, 16, 23 and 42?" Rodney asked and he crouched down to check it out.  Ronon joined him, each of them looking for different things.

"No one's been through it in years," came from Ronon.

"Just like on _Lost_.  So maybe it really isn't full of Michael's hybrids.  What, like none of you were thinking the same thing?" Rodney sputtered.  "I mean, Teyla's issues with Michael aren't any more secret than yours about your dad."

"I don't think it would be treatment if it killed us, McKay."

"Technically, I doubt that if we died in this interface, we'd actually, like die.  I mean, you can't be thinking that there wasn't one psycho Ancient that wasn't having issue about dying?  Isn't what the whole damn Ascension thing is about -- What the fuck, Sheppard?" Rodney abruptly squeaked after John slapped the back of his head.

"Felt that didn't you?  Want me to try it with one those fake branches?"

"Colonel, I do not think that is necessary," Teyla glided next to him. 

John raised his brow to hear that now he was Colonel again instead of John, but then it was Michael standing there before him and so things were pretty damn serious. The fact that Michael was rocking a damn accurate reproduction of Torren, who was in turn cooing and blowing bubbles back at Michael, was fucking surreal.

He was only a couple of seconds behind Ronon in reaching for the gun neither of them were carrying.

"Michael?" Teyla called out uneasily and started forward. 

Sure they knew that any construct in front of them had to be false if it was anyone other than each other, but there was a part of John who still really believed he'd been talking to his dad.

"Teyla," Michael was all smiles.  "He has started his first tooth, my love.  Come and see."

Okay, that was possibly even more disturbing than the Michael that had wanted Teyla only for Torren, and Torren only for the DNA he could harvest and use for his hybrids.

"Colonel," Teyla turned back to them, "I believe that like you, I would like prefer to handle this alone.  Perhaps the three of you can find something interested in your hatch?"

John was so tempted to say no, but this was Teyla's show, Teyla's demons to be exercised about Michael, not anyone else's.  He just had to be satisfied with Michael's death. 

"You heard the lady, Rodney.  Let's see how long it takes you to figure out the hatch code.  Last one Ronon and I played with had a right truncatable prime as its key."

"Really?"

"Teyla, you … you make sure you --"

"I will be fine, John.  _We_ will be fine."

**Epilogue**

"Can't really be hurt in there, John.  It's all in your mind, Colonel.  Jesus fuck, McKay, who but you would ever think that substituting the raptors from _Jurassic__Park_ for Michael's _Aliens_ hybrids would be a good idea.  Just where in the hell was your brain?"

"Just be glad I didn't pick Steven King's _It_ to put me to sleep last night, Colonel.  And you _tripped_ over your own damn feet.  Your broken ankle has nothing to do with the raptors."

\-- finis --


End file.
